Blacktail Deer Plateau i lived the dream of nymph and men

it did not come, but ying's voice sounded. 
any other time, the harlot would have welcomed the sprightly young siren, but now, now with her head poised upon the edge of another pain, ageing body protesting the lack of sleep — ying was only a reminder of what she stood to lose.
so vain a bitch, she chided herself.
"hello, ma chère," the bayou-witch invited, still enchanted by the cloud-and-sapphire seafoam glint that seemed to always glisten around ying.