Lion Head Mesa kemet

<3

Charles. She tucked away the name for later fancy. It seemed very noble, and she imagined at once a dashing man, big and strong. 'The Saints' may or may not have rang a bell—their notoriety was such that most wolves of these parts had heard of them at least once in passing—but most importantly, he was a prince.

He was The Prince.

Thank you, Lilitu replied, smiling. I'm happy another prince has come, after. . . She trailed off delicately, not wanting to invoke Pharaoh's rage upon mention of Crowfeather. And I am glad Akashingo will still have me.

She took another berry, chewing as slowly as before. Your wolves, she said upon swallowing. Do they have fruit like this often? I thought wolves ate meat only, except when times are hard. The memory was vivid of tart, cold berries sitting in the bottom of her stomach in the throes of winter; she had not been a good hunter on her own.