Lion Head Mesa Capture me, and I'll service you

Upon the flat of the mesa, as the sun came to its mighty rise, she rested upon the red-sand. Her inky fur beckoned the sun into it. Her posture was straight, but her head low and awaiting the princes to be ready. Her pads already had a gentle sweat, her nose a soft drip. Legend had traveled to the wellspring before making her perch outside, clear and visible, but alone and idle. 

Her ears stood stiff; her tail rested straight behind her. Today, royalty would lead them into the desert after she'd long stepped foot into it. She'd make herself fit. While lost, the act of moving would keep her satiated.