Dragoncrest Cliffs i would much prefer to see the lovely

"my daughter." erzulie's green-gold look moved to the one who had suddenly come up to join her. the wordless child of the sea. like a siren she was, without the malicious fire which often motivated the sea-folk.
but someone had scarred her. and someone had muted her. 
erzulie too wore the weals of conflict beneath her spiced pelt, and she was curious.
"my children be leavin' de nes' early," the obsidian said by way of explanation, her eyes growing tight with pain as she went on to search.