Lion Head Mesa seventieth

racharra followed suit, straightening her figure to match that of the prince. 
thank you. she says, heart pounding against her chest, before finally turning her attention to her plate. 
excitement — or anxiety — dwells in the pit of her stomach. but it'd be rude to let food go to waste in trying times.

have you been before? to moontide? a question thrown out just to fill the atmosphere. she grew to hate the awkward silence between conversations,  and curiosity about the world beyond the desert that she could only catch a glimpse of stirs her mind.