Lion Head Mesa netjer

there had been a single sprig of flowerheads left to thrive upon the trees. she had plucked the smallest branch of this, carrying it down to where the water lazily pulsed along the mesa's edge. as she approached she saw a shimmering gold figure and was surprised, dropping the pale pink-white bouquet.

as she hastened to gather up the blossom before it could gather dust and wilt entirely, pharaoh made his advance. his comment stirred something in satsu she had no name for.

there was no saving the blossom.
yes, i.. thought it pertinent to go, idly she pushes the remains of the little flowerhead in to the water where it bobs, then sinks. so that you could have privacy. i also wanted to know if there were others near us.

glancing up now to his face, satsu's eyes study his features and then drop to observe the slowly moving sliver of a creek.