Shadewood and you, o blessed goddess

rosalyn. direct. firm. assured. erzulie could maintain no major trepidation in the face of her wife's statement, and so let her shoulders relax. a smile climbed her lips; she leant into a breeze carried from the roiled sea and blinked. "i choose to believe you, kònèy mwen." there was nothing to it; nothing that could not be changed in an eyeblink.
however, they had not chosen one another for lack of trust. she paused, nudged into the round muscle of rosalyn's hardened bicep a moment. "i already be homesick for what we lef' behind." the den where their daughters had been born, and where valravn and regin were brought to be reared. filled with water, no doubt, and all trace of rusalka bleeding steadily into nothing from the bent heads of heather whipped by rain.