Wild Berry Meadow Dulce Laborum

all still welcome!

“Soon,” rumbled a low note over the chorus of parting grass. His face was a shadowed mask, yet beneath the blackened fur semer-wati’s lips curved with pride. His wife had dreamed of gilded faces and heard the thunder of their pawsteps; fierce as the storm and swift as the wind his godlings would be.

He turned to Zaahira, tolerated for her close devotion to Toula. “Akashingo requires your diligence, jodai, should more long-dead kin slither out of the weeds in erroneous demand of the throne.” Threats would continue to mount as soon Pharaoh’s heirs were born to the red serpent, and it was the sandstone woman who would safeguard their keep.

The king stalked attentively as the procession slipped on through the dry grass.