Lion Head Mesa Hearing one more "Keep your head up"

They were bathed, curried over by teeth combs, until they glowed like a night jewel, the deepest shade of obsidian. Travel had been swept from them, and without it they were just as they had always been. An ink black void in space.

They followed in the other’s footsteps, slipping around him when he drew to a halt and entering the room of the noble one. They did not speak, though they did bow low once more, clean and renewed.

Perhaps this might permit them a rest, before they would begin attending to the wants and needs of those around them.