Lion Head Mesa I have the honor to be

Warmer comes the Vizier’s voice now, granite edges softening slightly. A man of the old kingdom, perhaps, who knows the true merit of old gods.

“I fear I am much too old for such considerations,” the silken voice laments. “My union is with the gods, Honorable One. But to pray in your halls, bless your pack, spread the word of old Kemet, this I offer in service.” His grin hinges, onyx strands catching reflection from the delightful closeness of the lambent Vizier.

Closer he tips his muzzle, quieter he draws his voice: “There is another service I offer, Honorable One, if the kingdom might find value in such a skillset. Ways of gathering information on behalf of Akashingo.”