Lion Head Mesa Kourasménos

It was a bleak day; sunlight was concealed behind a wall of dismal grey clouds. They stretched across the expanse of the heavens, leaving no room for the light that existed beyond. The scent of cold on the air was a promise. Winter would be cold, and Arsenio could feel it in the frame of his body. As he ventured from the caverns of the mesa and into the open terrain, the air bit against him.

The Greek man was not pleased with the happenings at Akashingo. There were days when he regretted accepting the post that had been offered by the Roman soldier. Germanicus the stoic, thought Arsenio with a frown. The greyed man was something of an enigma, much like the other men in the Pharaoh’s court.

Finding a suitable stony outcropping, the russet figure relaxed to his stomach and crossed his paws in front of him. He would have some time for himself while the queen was busy with her devoted followers.