Lion Head Mesa Malachite

“You are good to me, Tavina,” she always had been, even in the way of her introduction that had meant another patient for the already overworked Sesh. “Thank you.”

And when she instructs the fellahin is attentive, interest braiding with realization.

“Yes,” she’d seen this before in her serfdom. Few coyote children aged past one month, though they did not have a name for it. She eyes the cypress root, thinks of the honey, committing this remedy to memory for Greencough.

Though- children. The inceptive feeling is dread with worry following close behind.

“Do any of the Princes deserve her?” In this private session between them she noses at the impervious confines of her rank.