Lion Head Mesa aon

for five nights she slept alone, running among the trees until they became a rarity. then she hid where she could from the sun. when hunger plagued her she went for the rats and such small things, which were fortunately plentiful.
how far had she come? there was no way to tell; but she smelled dog here! dog or something like it rather, and with some excitement the wee scott pranced in place and gave a holler:
Hey aire! Hey! Whose oot aire? Ye gotten some maet an watter? Common naw!

There is no creature on earth more unfortunate than an ugly woman. The king could not decide which was more repugnant– the squat, deformed body, or the incoherent noises it produced. Rashepses nearly pitied the thing.

He drew forth as a fellahin spoke his titles into the air. What a humorous contrast it must have been to witness, proletariat in the presence of an eternal God.

“Meat and water,” his royal shadow cut clear over her, “Akashingo offers both. What does our visitor propose in trade for such magnanimity?”

A shadow crossed her, and as she looked up she saw the radiant gaze of a Baskerville hound; inky black and giant. He had an air of superiority about him. Mo wasn't bothered—she was used to being the dwarf among other dogs, and was more interested in his words anyhow.

Fit div ye wint ah? Ah'll div onything mister! The truth was, Mo didn't know exactly what a big old beastie like that might want or need of her, but if she could weasel some food out of the bargain she would indeed say anything.

Placie like this bet it has mony sma' places ye cannot rax. Ah can get in aire, hunt the rattens, mebbe find ye tint treasures? She teetered between wanting to run and wanting to stay put, although it hurt her neck something fierce to be staring up at him.

Not a whisker budged, but Rashepses’ smile was enigmatic; rats, and jewels. The consort was more interested in seeing her perform a jolly tune for his wife, or provide his future teething sons with a chew-toy. If for nothing else, it was a repulsive face that would frighten off attackers.

The king leapt from his plinth, landing with a solid thud in the fine quartz earth. He gripped under the imp’s small jaw, raising her chin high to meet his eyes. In them, he dared her to move.

“You will have all the meat and wine on which to gorge yourself. But in return, I want your loyalty; a dog who is never far from her master’s heels.”

The big man came down from his perch; the dust rose around him as he did so, and Mo was left squinting and wheezing until the air cleared. Then, she saw just how much larger he was, close-up. In moments he was lifting her chin up, demanding her full attention.

Ye bet, ah kin dae that! Give me a bite tae sloch 'n' some guid dram, 'n' ah will dae whitevur yi'll want. He called her a dog, and while others might have taken offense she did not; she was a dog, unfit for the world she had wound up in.

As brash as Morag could be, she found her voice weakening the longer she stood in this man's shadow; she could not tell where it started and he ended. The sun haloed around him and made everything seem gigantic, swallowing her up except where the light burned her eyes.

Whit dae ah ca' ye, sur?

“King.”

The divine consort looked down, appraising the dog with hot yellow eyes. A jester of Akashingo was a finer rank than a mutt like this could ever hope to earn.

He released her jaw then, turning abruptly for the shadowed entranceway at his back, his long stride leaving deep impressions in the sand.

“Come, dog.” He called out over his shoulder without pause. The guardsmen waited for her to get a move on before following suit.

It wasn't the first time she had met someone named King; there were many in the dog world, with many titles. Titles which had never appealed to Morag even while her keepers insisted upon them. By now her titles were buried deep.

Didn't matter now, she thought. This was a wild world. Best she could do was follow along - trusting she was being led to a pantry or somesuch, to eat from, rather than to be the thing that stocked it.

Her scampering steps hurried after the shadow king.