Dragoncrest Cliffs now, I shall sing these songs

The sound of gentle water lapping at the lake’s edge eased him as his mind drifted through thoughts of the young emissary. He wasn’t sure what or how he felt – but he new a growing admiration was there. Erzulie’s touch brought him back and they shared a knowing look.

Her words, however, only solidified the fact that he was, and always had been, the donor. It was only his perception that had mutated. This nettled him, and his pointed ears turned back against his skull miserably.

Erzulie, noble as ever, bestowed a blessing for Njord to seek other prospects this season. His jaw clenched and a small nod acknowledged her statement.

“What ‘bout Rosalyn? Wha does she think?” he asked, knowing Erzulie’s other half was far more severe in nature. He recalled the day she asked if he was going to stick around. A lifetime, he had said. It made Njord sick with guilt to think of that now. But what other options did he have?