Lion Head Mesa it's the same old trick, they played their hand

The regal took to their battlements once more, this season making a proprietorial stallion of him. He moved with the mazoi, patrolling their keep while others perched in the shadows at lower vantages.

When the call came he descended the length of the palisades preceded by his retinue. In the long arrows of Ra the obsidian king came to a lofty stand above the coyote woman, hard eyes collecting over her lean figure as royal titles lifted into the air behind him.

She came with offerings and smelled of low country spices. Her golden eyes glowed. His men stood down with a flick of ear.

“Qiao,” he tongued the modest name, “inform us of your purpose in Akashingo.”