Dragoncrest Cliffs Wisenheimer

not a way with words, but he charmed her all the same. merlin bumbled before her eyes, put out and off-guard. erzulie, who found a sly pleasure in eliciting such from men
— still, at her age and a mother to add — rolled a slim shoulder in the vague direction of the water.
 "come wid me."
not a demand, though not a request. the harlot set off for the stonecut pathway that would lead to the stretch of beach belonging in totality to sapphique. here held the coldness of winter without the wind, the gentle lap of surf on the smooth beach a quiet ambience for the protected locale. 
erzulie glanced toward the water, then back to merlin with an expectant look. she herself padded to the icy touch of the salt, slipping into it as far as her shoulders with a sharp intake of breath at the chill.