Lion Head Mesa dear heart

toula's own nervousness rubs off on the young girl, a drum beats in her chest as she anticipates the woman's request. but as the Pharoah's words spill in her flurry, the rhythm changes — no longer does her heart beat in anticipation but of pure joy.

of course you are my mother. with the pricking of her eyes, the darkness that festers in her washes away, if only for now. you have been more of one than she had ever been.. racharra sputters between short gasps. this is all i've ever wished for.

she may never be as loved as the royals. her blood may be filthy, and soon she will be replaced by those fortunate enough to be born to toula rather than left in her arms, but for now she can call herself racharra of the redsands. that alone returns a glimmer to her eyes.
i would like to take the name of Redsands.