Lion Head Mesa deathless death

Hickory-dipped ears are swiveled forward, intent on every word that comes from the Queen's mouth. He was good to her. He was kind, once. 
It's not that Zaahira doubted her word, but she cannot help but wonder what changed. 
I loved him, I think, crestfallen, she flattens as she speaks. Maybe that was lie, too. 

And as the fellahin gather among the place of Osiris, as they reach the altar, Zaahira drops into a seated position, head lowly pressed close to her chest. She had nodded when asked if she would like to speak to Him; she had so much to say, so much for Him to deliver to her maiden, words she had not said to her still frame. Calmly, she greets Him, praises Him; and asks of Him to deliver her a message.
Wahashteeni, Raven. Justice, I give to you. I safe with A-ka-shin-go, they avenge, She struggles, stammers, and nevertheless; Not enough time with you. In another life, we know each other better, we are love. she is still, statuesque, and the rest of the world feels as if it fades from her peripheral; Aliki will pay. Khaba will pay. You will be free, in sha'Allah. 

And for a while, a long while, she sits in silence, and her paw reaches for the Queen's to hold when the silence is no longer and the tears do not stop.