Lion Head Mesa Egó

Oh yes, yes, of course!

Arsenio nodded until his neck ached, smiling happily at the ruler. So many masks for so many wolves, the Greek knew that he would feel dead on his paws before the end of it. It did not matter, for it was a job and he was not to be sent to the underworld for such trivial things. Certainly not for the likes of a spoiled man child like Ramesses.

To the king and queen! Arsenio chimed in jovially, throwing his head back to laugh warmly at the man.

To your death, Pharaoh, the misthofóros thought, a cold knot settling in the put of his stomach. How hard would it be to find poison for the man’s berries, for his meats? The thought sat on the front of his mind as he bowed his head. I will return now, at your command. Arsenio was sure to look daftly at the Pharaoh, to make him give the command again. His glassy gaze had a faraway look to it.