Lion Head Mesa heaven's not enough

a pang of recognition roils zaahira's blood. i do, she sighs, settling intently as her tail folds over her feet. They saved us, i think. led us here for our true calling.
she sees much of khaba in the young girl, and yet so much of the desert; it was as if the sands had sculpted her and made her into a power much greater than the lake people could have ever conjured. do you ever miss it? the lake, the jodai asks quietly, coolness melting away into something warmer. for me, it is strange to think i had ever even lived there.