Lion Head Mesa stele

She hummed softly at his invitation, honestly tempted by it more for curiosity sake than anything else—and she openly considered. “I wish I could, Lord Pharaoh. I have a patient at home, however, who I wouldn’t want to leave without checking on her for too long a stretch.” Some could call it a small fib—others, if they had met Towhee, would understand that perhaps there was some truth to that statement.

She also knew the feisty woman would have no problem being thrown under the proverbial bus… at least not for this.

She couldn’t help but notice that he did not truly tell her one way or another to what she was drinking.

His eyes searched her before leading direction to the wall—her own gaze roved it with open intrigue. “You seem to have much talent here at Akashingo,” she murmured, once more offering the praise freely—not just to keep her current company pleased, but also with the hope the compliment would be paid to the one deserving of it.

She also couldn’t help but notice that he offered no detail of his supposed battle and victory. Interesting…

With her praise and flattery offered to push the spotlight from her to him, he was quick to return it—looking to delve into the details of her supposed mateship with Reyson. With a blush rising to her cheekbones, Meadow stole another small sip to steal a few moments of time, calculating her words and then cursing herself at the vibrant flare along her tastebuds, reminding her to tread cautiously. She was only small—surely, she could handle a lot less than most.

“We’ve vowed ourselves to one another in the quiet company of our closest friends. But how charming—does Akashingo have many weddings?” Deflect, deflect, deflect.