Lion Head Mesa falseseer

he chuckled, and it were a sound sincere and bright as crack of sunlight through murky clouds. none of that courtly masquerading and mockery!

yet, back to the ball it was for them, and gucci's head lowered, now in line with his daughter's forequarters, stepping slower but speedily still. his girth would thank him, he believed.

ears tah th' walls, hm? nawt mah child an eavesdropper! he jokingly chided. 

but this were a serious time, needing serious tones.

gucci sighed. root o' this mess is ol' young pharaoh's vicious heart. smidge too vicious, ah say, bad blend o' ma n pa, ra rest their souls.

young queen's gaht tah fix it, n ah fear she's soft fer battle. nawt combat, minds ya, tactics. discipline. intimidation. stuff needed tah strike fear inta hearts o' barbarians. their kind- well, khaba's proof. muscle n teeth, nah tonguework.

but yew he looked at her sideways, one brow cocked. this ol' man hopes that ain't bloodthirst in ya. what's ya take on this whispery nonsense?