Lion Head Mesa I never can quite seem to pull my weight

The dark figure watched Belen hustle about, arranging them a place to eat with the woman who had tended to his wounds. Crowfeather did not much like how they fussed. It made him uncomfortable in ways that he couldn’t fathom, couldn’t place in his mind. When Belen had taken her place in the corner of the room, her eyes upon him, the shadow felt his ears fall flat – apologetic. Crowfeather did not see the smirk that played on Ramesses’ face.

When the Pharaoh spoke of his childhood, it was to say that it was very much like the place he had formed on the mesa. Crowfeather eyed him curiously. He spoke of gods and the legacy of his father. There were only bits and pieces that the dark figure could truly understand for himself. It seemed like a world that was vastly different from the one he knew.

Ramesses spoke of Satsu in a way that was surprising to Crowfeather. He said that her culture and tongue would be honored, too. The seer did not voice his disbelief, only because he was not sure it was grounded upon anything. He was also certain that he did not want to stick around to find out if the Pharaoh was true to his word.

It’s good that your children will be cared for that way, the shadow commented quietly. He picked at a piece of meat. Satsu seems like she- like she really cares about you. She also seemed like a different wolf to Crowfeather, but he had started to wonder if he had judged her too soon.