Lake Bismuth I’m shipping up to Boston.

They spent the night snuggled up in the Hobbit Hole. Towhee rose just before the sun, carefully unwinding herself from Bushtit’s legs and stepping toward the den’s mouth. She rested one shoulder against the earthy door frame and watched the sunrise gild the plumes of warm breath seeping from her own mouth. She glanced backward toward her sleeping son before stepping outside.

How many times had she walked along the caldera’s rim just like this? Each step gradually worked some stiffness from her aging bones as Towhee plodded across the frosty ground. She felt a little nostalgic, despite herself, and decided to spend the morning digging through the old caches she knew. Maybe she would also visit the little grave site near the cave too.

It didn’t particularly surprise her when a yawning Bushtit appeared while she stood staring into said cave, lost in some memory. Her eyes cut over to him and she smiled softly, pressing her muzzle beneath one sleepy eye. She hadn’t found anything to eat yet and she knew he would want to come along if she went hunting.

She led him back up to the caldera’s ridge line and said, You awake yet? I was thinking you could decide where we should hunt this morning.

Bushtit perked at this, then surveyed the panoramic views. He said nothing as he began trotting along the caldera’s curving brim, focused intently on the task at hand. Towhee similarly stayed mum, watching him curiously as they moved away from the western edge and its splendid views of Lake Rodney. She wasn’t particularly surprised when he stopped and pointed at Haunted Wood.

She looked at the bare treetops, then beyond them, and mulled. They would be quite near the lowlands. Towhee rather liked that clime, though she knew @Soto was down there. What if he found them somehow? As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she remembered her conversation with Chakliux. She frowned thoughtfully at her sweet summer child.

Bushtit read her expression and cocked his head, signing, -No go?-

No. I mean, yeah. We can go, Towhee said, motioning for him to take the lead as they began walking down the slope.

---

She’d planned to stay at the caldera for a few days while they figured out where to head next. But when their hunting brought them to the far side of Haunted Wood and Bushtit caught his first glimpse of the lowlands, it changed everything.

Towhee chewed the inside of her cheek as she followed him around the desert meadow. She caught herself wondering if he’d inherited his immediate love of the place from herself or his father. She swallowed her protest when he inevitably led her even further south.

Now she found herself gazing across a series of pools, watching as her son frolicked from one to the next. The winter sun caught on their glassy surfaces, making them shine like golden coins. Towhee loped after him after a furtive backward glance, wondering about this desert treasure. Was the water good to drink?

As the saying goes, there was only one way to find out: Towhee paused beside one of the shimmering tarns, squinting against the glare as she dipped down to break the smooth surface with her tongue.

Samirseti lay reclined atop a smooth rock overlooking the scattered pools of Lake Bismuth, his dark pelt kissed by the sun’s golden rays. The heat of the day was soothing, a welcome balm to his regal form as he basked in quiet solitude. His gilded eyes, half-lidded in leisure, idly swept over the shimmering expanse before him.

The pools glistened like fragments of the sun itself, their surfaces dancing with golden light. Samir shifted slightly, his languid movements precise and feline, the very picture of a king at ease. This land was not part of his oasis, not yet his domain—but it was a treasure all the same, one he appreciated from afar.

Movement at the edges of his vision drew his attention, his molten gaze sharpening as he watched the figures below. A boy darted between the pools, his youthful energy palpable even at a distance, while the woman accompanying him—his mother, Samir assumed—lingered at the water’s edge.

He did not rise, nor did he call out. For now, he was content to observe, his golden eyes glinting as they followed their movements. The desert was vast, and its treasures many. Samir’s tail flicked lazily behind him, his expression unreadable, save for the faint curl of amusement at the corners of his lips.

Let them drink, let the boy frolic.

The water was shallow and unexpectedly warm. Towhee paused before resuming her drink, not entirely sure if she liked the temperature. It wasn’t exactly cooling, not that she needed a cold drink. These might be the lowlands, yet it was still winter, with the temperatures lingering just a few degrees above freezing.

After satisfying her thirst, she raised her head and put eyes on Bushtit. He circled another one of the pools before looping back in her direction. As soon as he rounded the curve, he broke into a gallop, looking like a pale Arabian colt as he flew over the gritty sands.

Whoa there, little dogie! she called out, grinning as those words evoked memories of other children.

How strange it was for her gaze to shift past her son’s racing figure and note a figure perched on a rock shelf in the distance. Towhee blinked loudly, her heart jumping into her throat. “@Alyx?” she mouthed without thinking.

The woman’s call drifted faintly through the air. It carried an unfamiliar accent, a tone that caught his curiosity. Her figure seemed sharp, defined, a contrast to the gentle, shifting sands around her. He noted the way her gaze shifted to him, her posture stiffening with recognition—or was it disbelief?

His ears twitched faintly, a hum of intrigue flickering across his otherwise stoic features. Still, Samir did not rise. He lounged, the picture of languid dominance, his tail draped over the edge of his sandstone perch.

In fear of appearing rude, the wolf barked out a quick response. "There is no Alyx here, I am afraid." Then, he returned to his lounging, tail swishing lightly upon the rock.

Her son slowed, glancing over his shoulder to follow Towhee’s eye line. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he pivoted to stand slightly perpendicular to her. He panted, totally out of breath, but that didn’t stop Bushtit from signing.

-Who’s that? He said there’s no Alyx here.-

By now, she’d realized her mistake. The resemblance was there, for sure, but the markings weren’t quite right. And even from a distance, Towhee could tell the supine figure was much larger than her adopted daughter’s. She let out a breath.

I don’t know who he is, she told Bushtit, but he momentarily reminded me of one of your older sisters—two, actually. They were twins: Alyx and Quetzal. I haven’t seen either of them in years.

-Do you want to go find out? Who he is, I mean,- Bushtit asked, eyeing the stranger surreptitiously.

Sure, why not? Just in case, you don’t mind translating a bit, do you? Towhee asked.

-Nah,- he assured with a quick nuzzle.

Two seconds later, the pair loped in tandem toward the man basking on the desert rock. Towhee bet it was pretty warm up there, especially with this harsh glare. She practically had to close her eyes to navigate through the maze of shining lakes to reach the stranger’s location.

You look right at home, Towhee observed aloud when they came to a stop at the foot of his perch. I assume you live somewhere around here?

Samirseti’s gaze flicked lazily toward the pair as they approached, his golden eyes catching the light like molten coins. He did not move immediately, content to let their steps close the distance, the faintest glimmer of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Quite the assumption," he murmured, his tone smooth as silk, laced with faint amusement. His posture remained relaxed, tail swishing lightly against the sandstone, a picture of deliberate composure. "Though you are correct—I do make my home here, in the heart of this desert's finest jewel."

He rose then, his movements deliberate and feline in their grace as he stretched his long limbs before leaping down from his perch to meet the strangers. His size became more apparent as he stood before them, the sunlight playing off his gilded accents.

"I am Samirseti, Pharaoh of Vahanet," he offered, his voice rich and resonant.

Her eyebrow arched a little at his retort. Was it really? Then he told her he did indeed live somewhere around here. His flowery speech made her think of the oasis. She glanced in that direction, wondering.

Before she could ask, he stretched and descended from his perch. Towhee took a few backward steps to give him room, as usual using her body to partially block Bushtit from view. He was now tall enough to peek over her back.

The large stranger offered what Towhee supposed was a formal introduction, though most of the words were foreign to her. She twitched her head to look over her shoulder at her son, who just blinked and shrugged. She suppressed a laugh and refocused on the Pharaoh.

Nice to meet you, Samirseti, she said, mostly guessing at the name. Whereabouts is this jewel? In the oasis? Towhee voiced her earlier guess.