Lion Head Mesa so I quietly conceal the dark inside of me

Sabah was beginning to catch onto the games of the pack around her. The sides others took, the various transactions that constituted power. She was lucky in her regard.

She was a Jodai who didn’t need to play the Pharaoh’s games. She didn’t need to play anyone’s games but her own, and even then, she had none to play. The sun settled over her as she rested atop a rock outside her quarters, one leg held over the skull she had pilfered. Her eyes watched the horizon, watched the distant figure of the kestrel, watched her surroundings.

It was a bit boring. She wanted her own games to play, but Sabah had never played the games of those above her. She was a solider. But she wanted to be more, perhaps. She wasn’t cut out for leadership, but a cushy position as a noble? It sounded like her. It sounded bountiful. But Ramesses would probably never chose her for such a thing. She was just a Jodai.

Just Sabah.

Just Nephele.

Just her, and the bird.