Lion Head Mesa epithet

"Show me."

The words trickled through the air, finding her ears with a caressing touch.

Slowly gliding from his touch, Sokha tread a few inches away before turning to face him. Pushing her forelimbs upward, her lithe frame sprung into the air. She danced in a small circle, balancing easily on her hind legs while her fore reached for the sky. Only for a few moments longer did her body move before it returned to the ground, sinking against the earth in a low bow. This was the way she once saw servants worship her former Maharaja when the sun rose and fell. 

This is how my people would worship.

Ramesses now knew what it was like for her kind to worship those worthy; and now, it was his turn to see her version.

Coming nearer again, Sokha lightly brushed her body along his. Drawing along his frame, she slunk on, reaching from his tail, across his back, and up to his neck where she paused. Once here, the woman nibbled at his ears and caressed his cheek with her own, keeping her body low and pressed against his flank. And this is how I worship those most deserving, She breathed, words being blown like sweet, hungry whisper right into his ear.