Lion Head Mesa know me broken by my master

!!!!!!!!

Zaahira knew that honey-golden voice anywhere. Silky smooth and rotten, dogged and rife with sins of old. Akhtar, she greets, though perhaps it was a warning.
One flame-scorched paw is cast out in a gesture towards the field. Priest, she quirks a brow, addressing him again with a lift of her chin. do you know what Osiris likes? I bring gifts.
It was an earnest question. For now, she would ignore the happenings of their previous meeting — though if her previous judgment of him had been correct, his eyes would be glowering at her in no time as if she were meat.
But if she had it her way, it would be him whose flesh was sunken into.