Lion Head Mesa cartouche

the mesa's immense slab was wider than it was tall, with steep sides that trailed west to a desolate hillside, and otherwise terminated along its cliffed radius. from where they stood overlooking the valley below, satsu could spy neighboring buttes that stood taller than the red-rock plateau; they were thin and layered, looking striated even from a great distance.
whatever had eroded this landform was long gone. there was no obvious water source that could account for it; perhaps upon further study the pair could find a nicer place to camp, with a winding river snaking through the dusty pits, or a hidden oasis.
there was time.
such things filled satsu with an immense feeling that she could not name — and she choked on that feeling a moment, reminded by the man that they had made a deal for their freedom.
i would rather forget about them. she proclaimed foolishly, knowing it was impossible to ignore kyn-dono.
i do not know.