Lion Head Mesa time flows quickly

feel free to pick the type of fur! some sort of large desert-native critter

 

she was all too eager to accept an audience from one of her favored of subjects, though she had little opportunity to be with her lately! her wedding, her coronation, her ascension, her honey-moon—and then, the first great trip of trade. but now, all were returned who had gone. Toula intended to see to each of them! 
Racharra was permitted entry, and before Toula lay a series of pelts of things all native to the desert. beautiful cloaks fit for a royal—fit for the Nebet before her! and the selection of them was intentional. it was to say, you belong here, if you wish to belong—you are a jewel, and you are chosen and loved by the desert, by me. for Toula had hand-picked these items, and she hoped that the Nebet might enjoy at least one. 
her prince-made-priest had advised her of the turmoil Racharra had faced, but Toula would address it no more than this if Racharra was not ready to speak on it. the Pharaoh had anger in her heart that any mother could make their daughter hurt... but Toula had always felt Racharra was a daughter of the desert. she was clever, bright, beautiful—none of the things that her mother was,
no, that was not true. Toula had seen beauty in the savage woman, too. but the beauty Racharra possessed was entirely her own, coming from the things that made her heart. it is so good to see you again, Nebet! please, look at these furs—tell me which, if any, is to your preference and it shall be brought to your rooms, she encouraged.