Blackbeak Bluff Names get carved in the red oak tree

she hissed, sour and low, an unusual sort of sound from the nomadic woman.

forbannet mann. she had half a mind to tangle with him, and not in the way she often tangled with others. there was a harsh streak that pumped through her on behalf of erzulie, of saphhique.

you do not say such things into the air. superstitious? perhaps, but she believed it fully.