Lion Head Mesa seven foot frame, rats along his back

It wasn't insulting. She agreed, dipping her head in a solemn nod.

And then came the question.

She'd be damned if she wasn't honest. She'd been forthright all her life. Other Melonii were full of secrets, and she for sure kept things close to her chest—but it wouldn't do, now. It didn't matter anymore.

I followed my husband's scent to the coast, and lost it over the cliffs, Maegi started. I went over after him. Both of us ended up on this island, and Pharaoh. . .he was gone. His mind, his soul—he wasn't anyone I knew.

Grief burned hot and thick in her chest, and she had to pause, trying to compose herself. I meant to kill myself in my birth forest, she admitted, looking down. But I found this place, instead. And now. . .I think I might live. For a while longer, at least.

As for being a noble, she didn't know. She didn't feel worthy. But she was here. And things, beyond the headaches, had improved.