Lion Head Mesa Ṣalāt al-Janāzah

a smirk curls the edges of jawahir's features before sliding away, returning their face to something impassive, almost bored.
i do not care what he sees or hears, he does not watch me the way he watches you.
which would make the girl's bid for freedom a little more difficult. was arsenio truly loyal to akashingo, or to his own desires? perhaps he cared for tamar in more ways than his eyes let on; but for jawahir, the guard was merely another lascivious creature to be pleased or ignored.

a call comes from further up the hallway. satsu's voice.
smugly, jawahir waves at the door, there, your lady awaits.
then they tuck in to their bone, returning to their gnawing as if the madness of the conversation had not transpired.

it would be entertaining to see how tamar dealt with this new power.