Lion Head Mesa 武士 Yūyake

the girl held close to tamar as if to wring the worry from herself, and found her face warm and wet against the ginger fur of the fellahin.

what helps me! satsu felt a flare of some unnatural fervor shoot through her chest. she shoves against tamar then, pushing her away across the bed, then folds in to herself, groaning.

make crowfeather well again! bring ramesses back here, find nyra and choke the life from her! what helps me - what can you do but sit silently and follow at my heel. her voice was scathing; it filled the lord's chambers enough that even arsenio might hear, if he were close.

i've seen the way you watch my door, she meant the man who guarded it, of course. how am i to know you have not gone to him! you filthy thing.

oh, but she did not mean that - did she? satsu wailed and pressed her face in to the bedfurs, her tail rising as a triumphant banner only to puff and lay flat again, a great show of her distress.

her mumbling could be discerned through the furs now, as she continued: but if you have, you know more than i do. her eyes gleam blue across a wheaten field of fur, a microcosm of the sky leveled at the fellahin.