Dragoncrest Cliffs i'll wait for years until the clouds spin their silk

erzulie only listened. zephyr was a pretty speaker, one who wove apt poetry where she herself might use fewer words. and yet she understood all of its following, hearing only the voice of a man. 
erzulie was willing to be incorrect, but she sensed a good deal of bruised masculine pride beneath the other's voice.
and she knew the name of the empire-builder almost as soon as he had begun speaking. wintersbane's potential had once been a laughingstock between she and her wife. 
and now the consequences of his foul actions reached out to touch sapphique yet again.
they had been so remote, and now —
"i never blamed you for it," came the rolling honey of her voice. "dis be a world built by men to hurt ot'er men. and women." she looked toward the sea. "i not be puttin' you back to patrol so soon after babes. dat is not my way, an' not de way of sapphique."
a broad smile. "now dis be a worl' built by wives. mot'ers. it will not be what you have known under men."