Two Eyes Cenote The greatest tide washed up my prize.

The borders were upturned and excavated until they were barren. Her paws treaded the body of the palace, roofs touched by her limbs and perched frequently to post. By Rashepses' order, Legend is bound to the slick attention of duty and tearing through the premises in a silent fox's stride.

Priceless shadow, imp and tide, she rolled her back along the dusty sand until she breathed anew her mind in the dusk. On top of a roof of a tunnel that dug into the ground, she stood still at high ground with satellite ears and a buzzing, shivering tail that flagged straight.

Big eyes that targeted all.
The scouts shift is active and she is alert.

She's no threat.
She's throned herself high.

Though, never as high as Rashepses will soar. There's amusement here. Mesen-ka seeks, and after time of seeing her rounds, he climbs, beside her with iron bones. Cemented to her side with high, rounded ears and a lingering stare. A derisive smile sitting softly on his mouth.

Prided voice, molten gold.

"Tell me of your shifts."

A man.

He was soon snaked to her side, a smile on his lips that strummed wild in her eyes. A grin pushed on her own mouth, feeling weighted by his eyes in a thousand ways. Small, small, she made herself small until she slipped down to her side.

Rashepses' guard.
Excitable. Oh, how excitable she was, for slips of affection and focus, but in this, her heart was trembling. On her back, her paws touched his chest, batting, batting, batting. Her little jaw dropped in that smile, the corners of her mouth curving in a breath, the tip of her tail tightening in quick repetitions of waves. The imps mouth felt dry, her tongue washing over her muzzle endlessly.

"Long. Rigorous, see?"

Her breath is caught in the fur of his chin. The commandments of his Prince, the God of Gods, they are over her. He is over her. Mesen-ka enjoys the wind of night and how she falls. He trails his paw atop her ears, because he could. Tracing the curves of soft inked fur by the edges, because he could. He reminds her of his weight by pressing, because he could. The touching of the mazoi, who he names fellahin in this momentary fun, he allows.

And suddenly he's amused. His smile so very gentle. His eyes will burn into her as he intends to keep her weighted. 

Down.
The guard's voice is honey, a tune he speaks for her.

Commanding.

"And of my prince?"

And of my prince?

Rashepses...Rashepses... The man who had swept Toula from under her feet, and dimmed the light of every man in a force unspoken.

Quiet now, reverent now, she found her tail curving into her stomach now and tight. She felt sick. Still, with a cats curiosity, and a wolfs mind.

"Royal."