Dragoncrest Cliffs Blue Skies Over Our Land

Rosalyn stood outside the den and Njord could see the solemn expression on her face. He eyed her cautiously, trying to get a read, not knowing how severe his captain could be.

It was eerily quiet in the den. Erzulie was on the floor, cradling Haunt, but from the back Njord could not see either of their faces.

He placed the pheasant on the floor. “Ow is she?” he asked with a gulp, rounding the side of the den to get a better look – but he did not need it. He could sense the stillness of her body, the lack of breath. A wave of cold dread seized him. “She canna be…” Njord blubbered, unaware that Erzulie had given the girl a merciful, quiet death