Lion Head Mesa culture shock

The idea of having servants was one Zaahira still found herself trying to grow accustomed to. Although most fellahin were not of pure wolfblood, or perhaps some had none at all, they were citizens just as much as Zaahira was. The Queen herself was kind to them — never were their hands forced, gratitude always expressed for their services, and the mazoi strived to do the same.
And even still, Tuna, she felt, was special. A confidant, the first person she met when she first arrived to the great palace! A figure of grace and undying loyalty, a honeysuckle sweetness to the backwoods drawl of her voice.
She is sure not to step too far in front of her. The coyote would lead the way, decide where they could head off to, and the pantheress found herself eager to follow. Perhaps some sunlight would do her some good.
Not rude at all, a velvety chuckle, followed by a quick shake of her head. It was peaceful, mostly. Very little fight. We outnumbered the Lake greatly. Perhaps months ago she would have felt odd, referring to the Lake as not a home of her own anymore. But today, she gleams with pride. Akashingo was home. It was... a thoughtful twitch to a black-tipped ear, then. weird, fighting against him. Going back there. Lots of painful memories, yes? And Khaba, his name comes out in a whistle through gritted teeth. tried to deny his crimes at first. So... calmly, too. I am convinced he is a psycho.