Lion Head Mesa Anhur

The pale figure smiled gently at him, pleased that he would agree to escort her. She liked his cheery nature, and some selfish part of her hoped that being seen walking so close with the Mazoi would make her more appealing. Kasmut wanted to be wanted, after all. Just because she would not lay with the other men of the mesa did not mean she couldn’t delight them in other ways. In turn, she would have liked them to make her a happy woman.

Kasmut pressed herself to him, brushing her tail against his hock. She followed and listened to him talk, giggling when appropriate, appearing awed when he would point out something particularly interesting. He maintained the same pleasant aura as he had when she’d met him. There was something comforting in that. It made him reliable.

As they moved to the grassy ledge, Kasmut peered down on it with vague intrigue.

Oh, I would be pleased if you would. I may hurt myself otherwise, she stated breathily to her knight in shining armor. The coral in her gaze danced along his features. She offered him another smile and waited to see how he might assist her. How she might make him long.