Lion Head Mesa culture shock

Zaahira talks, Tuna listens. It is all she could ever ask from her.
Right now, they are not fellahin and mazoi; they are friends, they are two women lamenting the loss of another. And there is little Tuna could do to ease the pain — there is little anyone at all could do. But the people of Akashingo are intelligent. They are compassionate at their cores, Zaahira believes; and what more could you want when you are up against a wall?
She was my type of lady, too, she laments, a sullen, half-broken laugh that pushes from her lungs.
Tuna's reach for her paw is noticed. She returns it with a soft squeeze.
Chelb, she repeats, distracted for the moment by her attempt at pronouncing the word, a roundness to her eyes. it is Arabic. My mother's tongue. It means dog, in a bad way. A silly insult, really.
But reality is brought back to her all too soon.
You are right, a grimace. but I think I will have to speak to Senmut about her. What to do, if she returns. I cannot imagine she would leave so easily after killing for that wretched man. Unless she is more evil than I thought.