Lion Head Mesa chariot

He pretended this was the ring, and he was hoisted up onto a bench to be observed, inspected and graded by the judges. Be poised, be neutral. This mantra echoed through his mind as he saw his attempt to be accepted into the Queen's good graces falter, plummet.

Even as she spoke of him as a something - and even as Ramesses took his side and called for hospitality - the chihuahua kept his posture straight, his face a mask of feigned mild interest, almost curiosity at what was happening around him. He didn't once let it show that he was terribly worried about his prospects of sleeping in a warm bed that night and embarrassed that his compliment to the blue-hued bitch (used in a strictly literal manner) somehow managed to offend.

And there were also the words they both were slipping into their speech, unknown to him. "Fellahin"? "Neb"? Were those titles, or some other form of classification? Still, when the royal named him a "neb", the male bowed his head and graciously accepted it.

Whoever Crowfeather was, the toy breed hoped he'd be willing to accept to company of one as shamefully socially inept as he.

A graceful golden beauty - was every dog in this kennel so lovely? - came up to escort him. Before she could do so, however, Gucci took a step forward, dipped his head and lowered his ears and tail.

"Ah thank you greatly, your majesty. You are kind beyond all praise. Ah swear y'all won't regret accepting me as guest."

He turned around with a swish of his feathered tail and followed the golden maiden.

last post from me <3