Luneshale Pass Desafinado

"Yes?"

The feathers of the lurking owl, she heard buzz and ring in her ears. Gentle crackles jolted and gripped her arteries. The sickening, moving churn that elevated her stomach. She took it as toy. She perceived game and mortifying thrill.
She did not realize, she did not comprehend, how her perception skewed. That she knew stop too late. That the moans of danger could mimic.

Sliding down the sands, those long, lanky limbs on a small body brought her over to the seething mazoi and foreign prince. Senmut's presence was static. She had no inkling of a clue where the prince she'd bowed to treaded, close or far.

 With a low head and slow walk, the imp approached, moving her eyes across Khusobek and Rashepses in a visual art of curiosity.