Lion Head Mesa Hate [m]e baby, maybe I'm a piece of art

few truly wanted the attention of their instructors, which led the crocodile to believe it was not education of which melody spoke.

the priestess leant closer and khusobek did not pull away, the cold eyes darkening as her soft gilt loveliness seemed to yield.

"you want to be seen by men and not gods?" the mazoi teased in a rumbling voice. why was she not devoted in holiness?