Lion Head Mesa i wanna take the breath that's true

The red mazoi had left her glowing.
For days, she had thought of him, the stern eyes alight with hunger. The power she held only within his grasp, the taste he left upon her tongue. Fluttering in and out of her thoughts as she went about her work, leaving her with a flushed face that she would speak of with no one.
And perhaps she had lost focus. Perhaps, just a little bit, she had unlocked something within herself. Where men, she felt, had hunger, she had thirst. And maybe it was naïveté, but naïveté be damned!
And so she wanders the halls rather aimlessly with curious eyes. A suitor would have to find her, lest she come across as anything less than dutiful.