Sky Mesa muscle & water

punched into a formidable silence, zaahira says nothing after the spit of khusobek's fury mars her eardrums. no, no, she needed to think. needed to redirect herself —
the terrified pronghorn swings toward her and zaahira is quick to latch her teeth into the tender skin. she is dragged through the sands, tearing, splitting; the blood is hot as at streams down her chin.
she will not drag out the process any longer than necessary. heaving and trembling, crimson paints her chest as her gaze burns into khusobek's, his wretched face.
burning, a numbness, and it all funnels into her own seething hurt as her pupils draw to tiny pinpricks and she —

do you know what i would give to have a woman to marry, mazoi?

i had one, once, you know. i had-- a beautiful, smart, sweet woman. she liked me for the person that i was. and i was-- i did not even get the chance! i did not even get to love her! i watched her fucking die, khusobek! i watched h-- i saw it! and i found her body, i was the one who--
she is pacing now, pacing vigorously and she can feel it as something inside of her snaps.
so if you know what is good for you, you will shut the fuck up and marry the fucking girl! you will give her children, and you, you-- you will build a life here, and you will not waste the one fucking chance you get at it! at happiness! because i can promise you, i swear to the gods above that if you do not you will see her face in everyone else, and you will always ask yourself why you were so fucking stupid!