Redsand Canyon i will always think about you,

another quick sweep of the place: rocks, dirt, the rich scent of drying plant matter. 

long ago qiao had learned trade was how kingdoms mutually prospered.  not blood, or marriages, warhungry generals or whore-thirsty kings — each paid their pound of flesh happily for easy spoils and fat bottomed women. it started, simply, with a need. 

 qiao considered aquene’s query with the knowing bob of a wolf used to subservient life. i am here as long as i am needed. implying she could be sent away at any time, on the whims of the imperator or her king. 

she turned to the walls, thinking. once she had built a cache in an ancient room of stone — the work proved difficult but in the end rewarding. here? qiao pointed to a row already half impressed into the earth — ready to dig upon aquene’s confirmation.