Shadewood and you, o blessed goddess

the thought cooled erzulie, paced her with worry. "for de sea to go out of a pirate," she breathed softly, eyes velvet with concern. "perhaps it is all de fightin' we have done beside de ocean," the harlot suggested with a heavy stirring within her, syrup bobbed along the bottom of a glass.
"maybe it not be de right salt," she spoke aloud in the following moment. mismatched eyes shifted to rosalyn. the moors had been home, but perhaps it was not in her wife's heart to reside in so flat a place. their bay. the cliffs. expression warmed as she waited to see if the sailor might understand her suggestion.