Dragoncrest Cliffs pay no mind to the rabble

erzulie had found the seaglass beneath the cold expanse of the winter sky.
many pieces of it glittered just along the edge of the waves. a particularly large portion reflected the woman's reflection back at her and for the first time she saw herself quite clearly.
the obsidian stared dismally into the saltmirror and observed how she had aged. lines along her mouth. a more reticent look to her face. how she had never been able to grow comfortable in rich flesh, but had remained spare and corded, as if the ocean itself had molded her into a sinewy slate of driftwood.
each hair of hers coated in salt. the ocean clung in all ways to erzulie.
she pulled herself away from the cursed thing. 
she had never seen any difference in rosalyn's gaze.
nor njord's.
and the obsidian wondered when she had become so vain. 
it was with this new and shaken awareness that she arrived to his call. her two-toned eyes were warm upon him, and fond. she turned them upon a creature of loamy confection, almost anguishing in her beauty, with a pair of blushed eyes; all of her, quite arresting in erzulie's heightened and loathsome state.
taking control of herself, she stepped to njord's side. she had come up upon his talk of winter. wolves who joined in winter were not ones she expected to stay through. and yet she had been surprised before.
she was silent, waiting for words other than her own. the inside of her skull pounded so powerfully.