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

erzulie blinked warmly into rosalyn's fierce features, stepping aside to allow the first mate entry into the tidy den, large enough for a pair of wolves such as there were in this moment. along the base of the walls lay neat bundles of herbs, and a small apeture midway between roof and edge allowed a shaft of clean, sea-drenched light into the shelter.
the harlot busied herself searching through her stores, eventually surfacing with comfrey and poppyseeds. setting the tiny black specks on a leaf near rosalyn's paw, erzulie glanced lingeringly into the woman's face. "dis may hurt; dese will take away the edge of de bite." when her charge had presumably ingested the seeds, the swab settled herself some feet away, beginning a meticulous chew of the comfrey. "you feel burnin' in de wounds? itchiness?"