Lion Head Mesa dyestain

It was her scent that drew him to follow her. Through the winding caverns and back to the storeroom where they had spoken before. The fragrance of Tamar was just faint enough. He did not know if she had passed through that part of the mesa recently, or if the thoughts of her had filled his mind and created an intoxicating brew upon the air.

As Arsenio entered the room, his features shifted into a smile. Light glimmered from the blue in his eye as he approached her and pressed his nose to her cheek, her throat, and lifted his snout to meet her gaze with his own. She was still the loveliest thing he had seen. His autumn leaf caught spinning in the chill of winter winds.

Tamar, his voice fell huskily into the room. I have thought of you every day. It was not a lie.