Lion Head Mesa black pearl

They did not rise, resting with their forehead to the stone floor. Dust settled fine on their forehead fur, a streak of red dust that sat between their umber ears.

A desert people, who have heard tale of you. I am named for fortune, so they send to you good fortune. The courtesan would speak, voice low and reverent in ways they didn’t know if they felt or not.

They could taste dust in their mouth, but it was no different that breathing in sand. All of it was the same to the desert creature they were.