Lion Head Mesa what a grand and intoxicating innocence

while his eyes kept to the claws - clean and bare o' marks o' labour or wander - gucci's ears were turned akhtar's way, listening for any shift in position, change in tone, whispered confession.

"doubtmuch." he took to manicuring. "she's a gentle soul. good, great even in peacetimes. 's unfortunate her sister left 'er a steamin', hot... nonsense tah deal with." gucci chewed on a claw.

"mah issue's that ah cannot determine which way she'd go when th' war's," pause. "won."

"senmut could chisel her inta shape o' some war goddess, while he relaxes. child soldiers, tha's one thang, child warchiefs - wholly another."