Lion Head Mesa pyramid

In the stomp of returning feet, the Jodai did walk, proud despite her still stinging wounds. She peered across the narrowness of her snout, the skull in her jaws held by its empty sockets, bleached white by sun. From now on, perhaps she’d start collecting.

Slowly, she tilted her head until she made eye contact with the bird still rested upon her back, jerking her head skyward. The kestrel ruffled his feathers, but took off, making a point to hit the back of her head with a wing. But Nephele did not falter. And when Pharoah brought the war party into the palace, she peeled off with a dip of her snout to the Queen and gathered Fellahin, before the shadow slipped away from the gathering place.

She had decorating to do. The bird, circling above her head, followed.