Blacktail Deer Plateau eyes like sea glass

the gradient of marisol seemed to suddenly blur within erzulie's eyes.
she had come up from her den, the last tinges of estrus clinging to her pelt; restless but moreso beset with another headache. this one pierced through her soul, reverberated every sound to a rattling dirge within her skull; a low whine, and she had set off for quieter places. 
it was between two heavy pines that she heard the voice of marisol float out into the cold air, hoarse and young and somehow foreign to her ears. but not in her heart, and the harlot quickened her pace until she almost flew through the myriad copses of new rusalka, until until until
"marisol!" she shouted, breath catching in her throat. "marisol, come to me," and she threw herself toward her half-grown prodigal daughter in a flurry of tears and laughter and sobs and the still-steady echo of the migraine.