Lion Head Mesa Cartilage

noon t'ya, head guard.

cool, internal rock of the mesa hid many cracks and alcoves, too small for any man of size to consider. were a good thing, then, that he weren't one.

neb gucci laid with his forepaws crossed, tucked into a jagged indent in rock only slightly above the sphinx's natural line of vision.

( how he'd managed to scamper up there would be a tale for future generations to tell )

he eyed mesen-ka with a look of carefully played indifference.