Lion Head Mesa Viper

She falls back with a cry!

The sudden ferocity of Zaahira’s features, the way her body convulses, she shrinks before the snarl, eyes holding wide to attend her delivery sealed in venom.

Her heart pounds for the passing of several breaths, shock falling to despair.

Half will wish to run! And still another will want to reach for her- to stroke and soothe and tell her she is not wrong. That she is different from her ideal clientele only because she wants love. Something Eset cannot give.

She pushes to her paws, standing in quivering silence, debating what to do. But there is not a way to make this right for the grieving woman; for the ashamed one.

Silently she slips from the room, down the hall and out into the sink of midnight dark, glossy eyes reflecting the low light of moon.

Over her shoulder there stands the palace, it’s walled catacombs less promising in the absence of sun.