Lion Head Mesa Earthly scene

His scent is around in the air, and with the red furs melding upon Inji like embers. His hand is at her own neck. It is a taunt, as if to lay claim to all the fellahin. To wrench away their sisterhood. And enough. She is not some animal without her own command, and to Inji’s eyes now she pivots, noting the uncertainty there.

To her side she comes with gentleness. “Our task is the easiest,” her sly grin admits, “but we will remain near the palace- in case the Queen has immediate need of us.”

The day was gusty which kept heat off their pelts, but might make it difficult to gather the needed pigment. It took Khusobek’s smell from Inji’s flank and flared along the inside of Eset’s nose. She dislodged it with a breath and centered her eyes then over the ashen girl.

“How are you, Inji?”