Lion Head Mesa fear is the mind killer

you are certain that this will help? a pile of freshly plucked leafy fronds lay before satsu, their ends yellowed, bundled by a length of straw. placed daintily at the foot of tamar, who looked sheepish beneath the scrutiny of her queen.
a sigh; satsu's head still throbbed and this was meant to be a remedy.
this far from the heart of the mesa and her bed, the ascendant was especially cautious. she and her servant had grown a touch closer of late, but that did not subtract from the obvous master-and-subject relationship between them, nor the sharp manner of satsu's behavior on occasion.
she looked over one shoulder to see if she was being watched for sport (by @Arsenio most likely), and was resigned to the fate of guinea pig for whatever witchery tamar had been convinced would work for this pounding in the woman's head.
she saw a leggy shape in the distance—jawahir?—
the masculine yowling stabbed at satsu's poor ears.