Lion Head Mesa know me broken by my master

Fruit? that earns a head tilt from her, a curious flicker of light behind tangerine eyes. Where do I get, uh, death fruit? Again, a genuine inquiry — if there was anything she took seriously, it would be this. He makes a show out of it, and Lord, she is only a woman. She cannot help but be entranced by the languid movements of his wrist, the flower's simple life that had been ripped away by a Priest's hands.
All in the name of God. 
Pacing a good ways in front of him, she wanders deeper into the meadow, only stopping to snuffle at a patch of green flowers that had yet to bud. One paw digs at the pale dirt. Then, she turns to him with renewed desperation, a cold crease to her brows. Show me, Akhtar. I must talk to Selena.