Stavanger Bay There's talk goin round this town, keep it down now

she carried from her den the bones of yesterday's kill — while the harlot preferred to eat outside her stone shelter, the rain had driven her indoors for the time being. it was afternoon before she had emerged again; now, the swab tossed the remains into the brush. 
the saltmetal scent of blood floated on the ocean's breeze before erzulie heard the voice of the first mate. a cool flare of anger entered the woman's two-toned eyes; she descended her stone balustrade in little time, arriving alongside the wolfess with a studious eye upon the lacerations. "who did dis to you, woman?" came her thorn-edged murmur, though erzulie profferred her companion a glance that sought to inform her anger was not directed at the first mate.