Lion Head Mesa immortality

many things stirred in akashingo.

treva watched with a worried eye. if she had become reclusive save for winter planning, she spoke none on it. not a single face would pry free the worries of her heart.

she wished for daughters.

she wished for sons.

she wished for some, for none. a tangle of her heart and her biology.

it was easy to don warmth for her only daughter. that whose future was up for debate, but treva would give tooth and claw to secure safety. warmth, love, care. no politics of prince or pharaoh would halt the things she would give her daughter.

and it was with that pale, family worn pelt upon her shoulders that she greeted toula. vibrant, smart toula. treva wondered how she had ever produced such a girl. she wondered if any of the wilderness of her blood was in there — or if it had been smothered by the divine, the royal.

what is all of this?

asked in a low hum as she moved to press a kiss to the top of the girl's crown.