Lion Head Mesa thamir alward

the rain began to ease as they climbed higher among the stones. above them lay a scattering of broken clouds and soon, as the wind blustered in the upper atmosphere, blue sky would dominate again. they had made good time; jawahir would find a place for them to shelter if pharaoh was taking his time to meet them, though... it was not exactly an ideal situation.
of course, my sweet... jawahir held back a chuckle, sharing a coy look with the dove.
a stairway rose before them. overhead curved a red monument and it was through this massive thing's shadow that jawahir crossed, breathing in the dust. they thought to call for the golden man — to flaunt that he should come when called — but opted not to, and settled sharply back upon haunches instead.
waiting. combing teeth through the ruddy fur of a wrist, patiently.