Seaside Moors burnt the fire of thine eyes?

"she is." cryptic, though erzulie knew little of the girl's processes beyond the fact she was breathing, alive, mired in sadness. but none of this was fit for sugar glider's ears, and so the harlot was grateful for the shift in conversation. "frosthawks," she admired softly, though a warning note of danger trailed the length of her spine. frosthawks. firebirds. from where had the girl come, and would she carry word of rusalka back to the bitch niamh?
the beta filed such a notion away to be surveyed later; a nod. "all are well. dey have a great territory to explore, an' we have shown dem dat de sea is to be dere birt'right."
"qualifications or not, it is by your han', an' dat of stryx, dat dey are even alive. i owe you," erzulie murmured in earnest, though her attentions returned to valravn. "go an' see what she brought," the woman encouraged, gesturing toward the limp body of the rabbit.