Meadowlark Prairie preach

Where the barking man was a clear sight against the pale background, Kasmut was not. Her pale coat faded into the snow and the softness of her features seemed to melt her into its sheet of white.

The flower had heard the man’s voice and had traveled to find what he was saying. When she had drawn nearer to him, she had noticed another figure in the distance – a pale shape that was much too far to cause trouble. Kasmut had watched the barking man for a short while, admiring the strangeness of his body and the oddities that marked him. The woman was reminded of Gucci, though she could not place why.

Stepping toward the speaking figure, Kasmut allowed a sweet smile to spread along her pink lips.

What is it you speak of, strange man? Devotion is commonplace in these lands.

Kasmut turned her gaze toward the mesa and thought of Pharaoh.