Lion Head Mesa wild blue rye

the former shabti had intended a winter feast, but such a thing has no place in mourning. she informed before a yawn rolled out, punctuation to her words. as if talk of the shabti bored her! it did not, only her whole being and soul still ached.

i am thinking gifts of apologies and telling them the news of a new pharaoh.

she turned a lapis gaze to him now, seeking as usual.