Shadewood and you, o blessed goddess

the truth of it rang resounding within erzulie. they had kept rusalka hale, bound it with their children. but rusalka did not belong to her, nor her wife. rosalyn's admission and the following rush of unrealized emotions sent the harlot's gaze into the distance.
for a moment she was seized with a rage, then a sadness that refused to be resigned to what her mate had revealed. "how do we make dis place ours, den?" came her quiet rejoinder, even as her eyes moved to those of the pirate. how had she been so apt? no shock, not truly; only awe that her wife was able so swiftly to cut into the heart of the matter.