Lion Head Mesa breathin' soft on my skin

the memory of their conversation with nazli lingers. the fact that there had once been tracks, overlooked by a grieving leader.

the piece of jangling metal around the neb's neck announced the man before he was seen. jawahir bowed low. Of course. they motioned the children forward. Will you be taking them from here or shall i depart? the servant inquired in the same elegant monotone.

they gave nothing away.