Meadowlark Prairie mirage

sorry about the awful first post ;;

Hatshepsut has begun to doze in the heat, if only to escape the clawing of her belly, but at the approach of another, her lapis eyes reopen to take in the form of a man sitting not far away. He is comprised of ash and blood-colours, and his tones are a deep and syrupy drawl. The man is a welcome distraction from the few locusts that litter the dust here and there, and she raises herself to a half-lying position, unperturbed by his nearness.

The woman is used to the brazenness of men -- she had dealt with it as a child, as the Blessed One, even as Regent of Karnak. And so she is unsurprised by the smile tossed her way, the familiarity with which the man addresses her.

Crossing one fore-ankle over another, Hatshepsut does not immediately answer, her eyes cool as she studies him for a long moment, attempting to divine his intentions. Sensing no malice in the man, her gaze softens almost impercetibly. "Quite. But they will not remain for long," she rejoins quietly, her tones accented with tinges of lotus and desert.