Lion Head Mesa To cater to the hollow

Sapair closes his eyes against the hot sun and finds refuge in the darkness of his eyelids, picturing Toula. Not much time passes before the sound of footsteps approaching pulls him out of his brief reverie. 

He is a young man, strong, with eyes a piercing green not easily forgettable. Sapair stands but lowers his head into a bow, tucking his tail, keeping his stature low. He briefly glances toward his hindquarters to ensure his priest and servant are following suit, and,satisfied with their behavior, turns back to the young wolf who has greeted him.

“Thank you for meeting me here, erpa-ha Senmut. I appreciate you time,” came his words of calculated courtesy. “I am Baka Sapair of Shetsoma, a land to the south and east. These men are my priest,” he casts his head toward the agouti wolf, “and my servant,” similarly indicating the paler wolf . He does not bother with their names. 

“I received a herald’s message about your blessed queen… Toula. I have come to seek her hand.” He speaks with reverence.