Coconut Grove a rush of blood booms in my ears,

"cute? an' just plump?" erzulie laughed, a rolling sound that carried out over their path. "i will take de flattery," the harlot declared, shelving talk of the sisters. what did it matter, now rusalka had come back to the sea? they would bring forth a new generation here and bind themselves to the moors, as they had done in the sound.
but this land, truly, would be free to them.
"it is still cold dis time of year," she warned him, pushing through the grove toward the pale beach beyond. there the sea lapped, its darkened waters beckoning her paws. she strode gratefully into the surf, ankle-deep within the waves shortly thereafter.