Lion Head Mesa charcoal

sakai was covered with small bits of debris.

on wooden legs she approached, crouching in a bow. "tamar, mazoi." this close she could catch his scent, the shadows of akashingo and the presence of their ruler.

her pale eyes rested on his face for a moment. "the queen has sent me in service to you."

if allowed tamar would begin to gently preen his coat free of its clinging flotsam.