Dragoncrest Cliffs some say an army of horsemen,

"i do not." voice warm, eyes watching him. this time erzulie kept her silence, thought at length her spicewitch features smoothed into a cunning smile. she drew closer to him. "merlin," and her voice had dropped an octave, a skilled courtesan plying a trade she had not meant to use in a long while.
perhaps the edges of her skill held rust, but erzulie herself did not.
his coat was a shimmering shadowed red; she thought of the bayou-heat.
"i be havin' a bold question for you."