Lion Head Mesa blood & bone

she pours him his drink, and perhaps must cast her eyes away before he can catch her staring. Tuna would have to be honest, she's never been quite this close to a man of his size and blood before. in many parts of the world, he may come to snatch her throat and wear her body as a medallion of honor over the coy species. but in the walls of akashingo, he is kept on tight reins it seems.

"Tuna," she states as she comes to pour another cup for him, "an' may ah have th'a honor to know yers?" it is perhaps no place for a fellahin to ask, but saying roles rather than names always seemed a bit much on her foreign tongue. beads of sweat come and go upon her coat, though the water remains untouched by her own lips. "do yew request a meal, or anythin' else ah can provide?" perhaps she is ignorant to his desire for flesh, perhaps she knows to keep her legs closed.

but through all of it, there lingers a curiosity of his taste.