Lion Head Mesa fist & jaw

She cannot see the Mazoi’s face, but she does feel her body- the cave of shoulder as resistance is voiced. The cyperus is dropped, her muzzle lifts. She glances towards the man Khusobek though his grin offers no answers, and without knowing the reason of objection her thoughts turn self-abasing.

“I wish to,” is her assurance. This is her role in Akashingo, it is her work and her debt to the Queen. “Are you displeased? I will call for the Queen’s favored.”

There's anxiety that she is underperforming in her work. If she cannot satisfy the pack’s Mazoi, how can she hope to serve the nobility, to ensure her future here? Her doubts are obstructed by monotonous stone.