Seaside Moors Chere, mo lemmé toi

a grin broke across the thoughtful features of the jezebel. musical. inclined to dance. these were the marks of a well-made courtesan, but that was never an arena in which any child of hers would serve. mirroring the bow, she barked once, a sharp sound that was carried off by the ever-present wind, and laughed, leaping sidelong.
in her head, the memory of the song they had once sung together, and how forevermore its notes would be tied to chacal. another yip, and the chai-tea she-wolf was floating in a semi-circle through the heather, darting to nip at her growing littlest.