Lion Head Mesa [MP] Hidden within

I do not want to bother, she responds, a flatness to her voice. I see you have made a discovery. amused, she points to the emerald, glistening with clearwater, and gives a shrug. She sought not gemstones nor finery — a simple life, yes, but it was all she knew.
She lowers her muzzle to the surface of the stream and takes gentle laps from it, and all the while, her eyes remain locked on the neb. A pelt of wildfire smoke and oakwood, embers flecked here and there — he held the same proud stance and slim build as her. Perhaps desert was not so different from sea.
I do not think we have met. I am Zaahira. Mazoi. though she assumed he knew that, she says it anyways.