Lion Head Mesa wailing

I can smell you from here, vromoúsa gynaíka, the guard replied with humor upon his voice. Arsenio crinkled his nose with a grin and stepped after her, slowly moving toward the river water. He kept space between himself and Tamar so that she did not feel smothered as she tried to wash herself. The auburn wolf bent his head to drink, soothing the dryness in his throat.

The autumn maid asked if he had no one else to bother. Arsenio smiled softly, his eyes following the flow of the water.

I do not like the others, the misthofóros said plainly, his broad shoulder shrugged. They are sneaky and lustful things. Let them have their Pharaoh. With one glance toward Tamar, Arsenio lowered himself to his haunches and then onto his belly beside the flowing water.