Lion Head Mesa gold snowflakes

He had arrived here a man out of place, out of his position.

Comfort was back beneath his grip, for he had been spoken as a holy man by Ramesses himself. Akhtar was priest and confidant, the other side of the confessional booth, a listener and a helper. So he set out to meet the others, anyone he could find.

He had already greeted the jumpy, surly Jodai, who had not given him much but snippy conversation that was mostly one sided before she was off, citing rounds of the Mesa. Well, Akhtar couldn’t say she wasn’t seemingly dedicated wholly to her job, so he wandered on, entering the palace’s rooms and delving deeper.

For the time being, the dog wandered the corridors between the alcoves and the Pharoah’s throne room, offering greetings and pleasant head tips to everyone he passed. A shepherd had to know his flock, and how to guide them into the light.