Lion Head Mesa ساخط khasara

How quickly he turned! Sihaya did not flinch at Sayf’s fiery tongue. In fact, he barely moved at all. A slow blink whetted his delighted orange leer, madly entertained by the gray coyote’s sour demeanor. It was so easy to bait Sayf to reveal his true colors. What a simple man – like placing grain outside a mouse’s burrow. At least Jawahir did not ruin their charade so readily. Imagine, the Fellahin thinking themselves mighty because they suckle on a king’s cock.

Sihaya held his ground. “I asked so politely, and yet you say such nasty things. Threats look unbecoming on you, Sayf. Ugly, even,” he replied, voice mild and unperturbed.

Then, Jawahir took back the helm and rightfully so – their companion was making a complete blunder of it all.  They took a seductive angle once again, but the trap had already been sprung. Despite Jawahir’s beautiful doe eyes and siren voice, Sihaya now knew their real intention in thanks to Sayf’s venomous words.

“Another time perhaps,” he replied with a cheerful smile, as if he wasn’t surrounded by wanting fangs. Sihaya turned to leave, feeling satiated, and would proceed up the red corridor in search of Crowfeather unless he was stopped.