Rosewater Oasis Ώρα μηδέν

She was right.
Faustus is alive, fully with the freedom to step away. And if there was one thing he knew of the senate of his homeland, it's that it was dirty work — sour smiles and the patting of shoulders to those who offer their wills of servitude for the betterment of the regime. Petty arguments set aside for the sake of a common goal, at least in most cases.
Compromise, even when you cannot stand each other.
I will settle, he trills. but know that you are not the only one in charge. I demand equal say as paterfamilias. We must uphold the Roman way in some form, his eyes narrow, hard as gemstone. Lest we forget why you married into the Aemilii.
He pulls sharply from her side, hips asway as he wades further into the pool. It is lukewarm and nearly just as hot as the sand itself at the surface, but a bath would do him good. He dips his muzzle down and begins to scrub himself with gentle strokes.
So what do you and your men suppose we do, considering we are in a no-man's land of barbarians? honeyed eye trails over his shoulder in search of her. Do we seek recruits? Conquer? Or live only amongst ourselves with this... peanut gallery?