Dragoncrest Cliffs i would much prefer to see the lovely

nothing to be found for Erzulie, at least, but Avicus marvels at the creatures revealed by the leader's prodding. she snips at the crabs; they snip back, and after a pinch to the muzzle that sends her reeling back, hissing, she abandons that cause and follows after Erzulie, ears cupped at the howl.

who? she asks, pitching her voice over the waves.

the sand is soft and wet under her paws, and the air smells of brine and dead things. she knows there's fish in the ocean. she's seen them jumping, writhing in the shallows. every so often, she sees a big shape against the horizon, cresting, only to fall.

but she fixes her eyes upon this earthly woman instead, brows knitted in silent question.