Ankyra Sound the end declared from the beginning

rosalyn. she was all right, oui? the lovely pirate was made of strength; she had seen strife and folly before erzulie ever washed to ironsea. she would be all right.
"humid," the harlot rejoined, turning her attention fully to illidan even as the mantra thrummed in her skull. "when you breat'ed, it was like de lungs demselves were sticky." a smile then; sometimes it was good to recollect the bayou. "big trees wid branches that brushed de water an' de eternal trilling of insects."