Dragoncrest Cliffs some say an army of horsemen,

ah. so she had been correct, and the guilt of it sparkled along her awareness. poor boy. erzulie spoke in allusions and touch; he needed the word of it. "merlin," the obsidian said softly, watching the way that the light lifted the deep viridian of his eyes. 
and then erzulie leaned forward, lips warm against his ear, and in no uncertain terms spoke the truth of it, l'acte unto la petite mort. illustrative, genuine, breathy.
"there then," she grinned, a bit surprised that he had no knowledge of this thing. but she did not mean it to judge. "it is better demonstrated," the woman added despite herself, paws plying the earth as she waited for merlin to digest what she had explained.