Lion Head Mesa [sc] eighty-second

Well, naturally, the man scoffed, striking a pose with a paw placed haughtily over his chest. I invest considerable effort into my appearance, you know. It would be rather disheartening if you failed to notice.

Another flirtatious rebuttal was forming on his lips when Senmut spoke again, quieting the words before they fell from his mouth. He watched with a pang as the tear carved its path across the soft fur—understanding settling upon him finally. Ah, I see, he responded softly, looking away from the man and out upon the clouds drifting lazily over the mesa. If the gods have brought you back together before, then perhaps they will again. And if not, there is still your own choice in the matter, Machi continued, thoughtfully. Is it, he paused, marriage... that the two of you seek?

They sound like very beautiful places indeed, the man mused, laying on his back once more. Ha! Camp roughly? I will bring my own supplies then, the rest of you can camp like ruffians, he exclaimed with another shake of his paw. Although, should you tire of such primitive accommodations, I may deign to show you some sympathy and share a bit of my luxuries, the man quipped languidly, eyes closed as he fluffed the umber fur about his neck.

I can tell, darling, Machi teased affectionately. That is why I'm graciously refraining from taking you too seriously, he added with a wink. Then because he had momentarily forgotten the disparity in their stations, the fellahin hastened to correct himself, I do not mean impertinence, of course, Highness, only respect on behalf of your lover.