Lion Head Mesa culture shock

upNo one ever prepares you for the first time you see a loved one's remains. There is nothing that possibly could.
The last Zaahira had seen of the maiden was the milkwhite emptiness of her beautiful brown eyes, the stench of iron in the form of rotten blood. She was cold, stiff, ruddy.
But tonight, the orange glow cascades off of the dirt that blankets her skeleton. She doesn't believe it at first, the association of this mound with her Raven. But reality sets in when she sees the same flowers she had picked for her before in little patches that sprout from the lowland grass nearby.
Her grave is well kept, clean; beautiful. Honorable.
You and Senmut did this? she says softly, a glassiness to her tangerine gaze. Oh, wiiiili, I-- she is tentative in her approach, and silently, she reaches out a sullen paw to grace the top of the pile.
Her maiden. Selena.
She is silent for a long while, eyes pressed to a close as she breathes in and out. Akashingo had not known her, but even still, they respected her in death. Honored her with so much more than the Lake would have ever given her.
Her lip trembles, just faintly. I do not know how to thank you.