Lion Head Mesa aguila

Kasmut listened to Belen speak with a softness upon her features. Whatever the girl could share would come to be of use to the flower, that was certain. The pale coyote did not know how, but she had never turned her head to the word of those in a desperate situation.

Belen did not see Pharaoh the way that Kasmut saw him.

The Fellahin was certain that there was no soul alive who saw Pharaoh the way that she did.

He is frightening, isn’t he?

The faded pink of her eyes fixed on Belen. Kasmut thought – for only a moment – of cracking the girl’s head open like a bird’s egg. A sharp splintering sound against the stone and then her thoughts would be spilled free, ready to be devoured.