Lion Head Mesa cartouche

satsu wove away from him, and ramesses followed. "ursus. did either of them ever tell you where this ursus was?" he inquired, padding beside the dancer with a sharp countenance trailing over each detail passed by the pair. 
the ruddy soil clung to the underside of his paws; ramesses grimaced.
"and the lands between which we passed. do you know the name of those packs?" it did not truly matter, for if this place suited them, the word of heathen peasantry would not change pharaoh from his conquering.