Totoka River caravanserai

;*

 

Chuff. Antigone gave one more rub of her paw over her cheek, and only dropped it when she was sure the rogue fur had been tucked into place. Not a bad job, if she said so herself! Nothing a bit of spit and polish couldn't fix. Then, and only then, did she lift the gold burn of her gaze, black ears scooping forward with a poignant little tweak to embellish just how neatly she'd groomed them. Bigger than she, though not really bulky — men weren't his color where she came from. She'd never known a life without black pelts; the 'moontouch' she had, the white in her fur, had made her exotic, but that was as far as it ever went. Maybe someone's wife had been more brown and earthen like he, she couldn't really remember.

Quietly, Antigone dipped the dark crown of her head, eyes bent up under dark lashes. What should she call the black splash on his face? Night-touched? No, too many 't' sounds. A thrill ran through her when she settled on the word - shadowtouched - and realized that she'd just added to her own vernacular, a word of her own invention! There was immortality in that. "Hey," she barely managed, as if remembering she was supposed to speak, and the warm tinge of her voice came quietly, if at all. Lost in that thought, she gave one careful glance down to her reflection before biting at the black of her lip, lifting those bright eyes back to his dark face. "You're φεγγάρι-έπεσε, yeah? I thought I was the first to make it this far from home." And those dark lips bent in a disappointed girlish pout. She could have stomped her foot, if she was childish enough; and she was, but the sand barely made a noise, so why bother?