Lion Head Mesa Atum

From the bath to the halls, Kasmut had dried her pale coat. She had rolled in petals to bring a sweet fragrance to her furs – the last she had. The flower would not be able to obtain more until spring had come and then she would smell of all the lovely things in the wild.

Padding quietly through the halls, the Fellahin thought of Ramesses. The very idea of the Pharaoh filled her with longing, desire, and as she trailed through the mesa’s corridors Kasmut smiled. The flower thought of @Jawahir and began to search for the jewel of Akashingo. They were a fine pair, or so the Pharaoh seemed to think. Perhaps the jewel would be open to company.