Lion Head Mesa the serpent goddess

profound greediness overcame qiao. she fought back its blackened clawing, breathing deep between her nose. 

leshen seemed to uncoil before her; and the spoils he’d gotten! she bent to pick each of them up in her deerskin if he’d allow. meanwhile one redcupped ear kept to his person at all times. 

wait here. qiao instructed, taking what pellets she could. if she did not see future use in this scoundrel, she would have taken his peace offering and fucked off to the red keep, leaving him as empty handed as he’d done to her. 

as it was, qiao had other plans. she returned with a strip of meat in her pouch. this dried chunk carried many of the same spices in its scent, yet a heady, almost sweet odor prevailed between the tang of cured flesh and salt. 

qiao offered the strip to leshen. there was enough poison in it that in a few hours’ time he would be curled around his stomach in agony. 

but it would not kill him.  

if he ate it, qiao would consider the transaction complete and his debt paid — but he would learn, hopefully, that she was not to be trifled with.