Lion Head Mesa all caps

hello surprise

she summoned @Gucci to her throne room.

surely he would find the place familiar and she went as far as to have a comfortable place made for him. somewhere he would sit and hopefully not quake. although he very well may tremble when she picked his mind.

whenever he entered, she stood tall and gazed upon him. neb, she would address him and motion to the fur set just for him.

*bowls him ur way* 

he'd been found just as sweet unconscious had begun to tempt him, curled into furs, in the privacy of his domicile that, he knew, could at any point be invaded by royal whims - as it had been now, a servant howling a call out the courtyard.

he fixed his tousled fur, scented his paws with spring sprouts, but couldn't shoo away the bone-deep tired what made his strut less jaunty, the tinkling of his dogtag mirthless.

neb gucci entered the throne room.

mah holy lord. he bent his head, long ears folding on the floor. to the fur he went with a sense of we've been here before.

but not me and you.

he sat, long tail naturally curling about paws, slight hunch to his shoulders.

let the girl-king speak her wants.

at least the little man remained wise — or at least wise enough to not further tempt the ill mood she had found herself with.

i know it is late, but i have brought you here to advise me upon pressing matters. here she must show humility, she must accept that her age still capped her knowledge on some things. gucci had stood along her father, but he had not been the cause for the man's madness.

to her knowledge he had not done anything worth her ire. not yet, at least. everybody seemed to be harboring a secret lately.

a jodai lost in betrayal. there is talk of a show of force against a lake he was found at once. it would be me and my mazoi.

humbled, humbled, humbled. she yearned for him to advise her to greatness, or warn her of a waiting failure.

his ears were attentive; his eyes glossy. 

it'd look like tiredness. truly, it was his mind wondering what have the old done to deserve such vicious young?

but he was attentive, all the same. in this room, now, and beyond it.

there was reason sleep rarely came to him.

this lake... 'tis th' one goin' north? th' crik feeds it, good berry meadows 'round it. the man who'd never been a night away from the mesa, recalled what he knew.

crow 'n' raven woods, 'tween there and us.

thump. his eyes briefly squeezed shut.

too near. what is known o' its people?