Dragoncrest Cliffs mindful of neither her child

Njord felt, somewhere in his heart, that he was traipsing in dangerous and uncharted territory. He had love for Erzulie – though a different sort of love than that between husband and wife – and the children she carried. But his place in their lives was uncertain. Though this caused him strife, Njord chose to quietly contain it. Instead, he basked in the joy of the present and let his mind focus, unfettered, on the golden Madonna in the sand.

“sing to dem, if you be wantin“ the captain offered. Njord thought back to the dirge he sang to their dead comrades and hope he would never have to sing another sad song again. Who would have thought that in a week’s time, Merlin would wash up on this shore deceased.

His blue gaze turned from the mother to her belly, and the seafarer cleared his throat as he decided upon a lullaby. Njord sang...

"Dinogad's smock is speckled, speckled,
Made from the pelts of martens.
`Weet! Weet!' A-Whistlin'.
We sing, they sing, the eight in chains.

When daddy goes a-huntin'
Fang in his jaw, claw in his paw -
He called on his lively hounds,
`Giff! Gaff! get! Get! Bring Bring!'

From the coracle he kills fish
As the lion kills game.
When daddy goes to the mountains
He brings back roebuck, boar, and stag,
Speckled grouse from the mountain,
And a fish from the waterfalls of Derwennydd.
Whatever your father aimed his teeth -
Be it a boar, a wild cat, or a fox -
None would escape but that had strong wings."