Dragoncrest Cliffs i would much prefer to see the lovely

the nameless, wordless girl. where chacal's silence had eventually turned to singing, erzulie felt that the injury to the crimson girl's mouth might be permanent. still, she had the pragmatic hopes of a skilled medic. and even if she was correct in this, the world of their kind did not require speaking.
onward the harlot pressed, stopping to scent at a single strewn piece of browning seaweed, nosing it over to expose tiny crustaceans that milled to and fro. no tracks to be found here, only the eternal wonder of the sands.
she called for chacal again.