Lion Head Mesa it’s time to hand it over

tavina bid qiao be still, her voice tense. qiao pulled from her surly heap in the floor, gaze dull and mistrustful despite tavina being the very first woman she’d met in akashingo. 


if the jodai struck her down, what then would stop others? none could be trusted. 

qiao’s head ached. she thumbed along the rough gash that cleaved the backside of her skull, noticing new flesh knitted between the cracks. how long had she been here? the jodai. why did he not finish the job?