Lion Head Mesa dauphine

Sabah. Morning. 

This was really happening to her. Slowly, she rose to follow, flashing a quick, nervous grin.

I just hope he likes me, honestly. She said. Breath in, breath out. She was the morning now, even as she jealously guarded Nephele, tucked away in her breast with every other name she’d used and sloughed like a snake when it outgrew its skin.

But for now, she was morning. The grey dawn. And she didn’t mind that.