Lion Head Mesa Thárros

Jawahir was a snake in the grass.

Arsenio smiled, delighted to have found someone so fiendish. He wondered why the sharp little creature had opted to serve the Pharaoh. There was a wicked kind of cleverness in the Hebsut. The Greek did not meet many who were like that, and he could not recall one of them that he had enjoyed.

Ah, when times are hard, you do what you must to provide for those you love, Arsenio answered with a solemn bow of his head.

The redstone figure watched Jawahir with a curious gaze, tilting his head as they walked.

It was not long before they parted ways and Arsenio was left with his thoughts on the odd one called Jawahir.