Barrier Gulch [m] Asp

it is bad.

blood darkening the thirsting sand.

the scent of organ-matter tilled over fresh earth.

qiao can tell this one's waning hours may be marked. were it not for the scent around her ruff that announced her affiliation to akashingo, the crone might have left her on that hill for her final vigil.

she curses the workings of the overworld; it would not do well to return to akashingo and convey the bad news she'd done nothing to help.

just as qiao resigned herself to expending her skills on the half-gone woman, a long shadow pressed between them. she can only step back as a man -- of course, always a man to ruin things -- comes at her full force.

leave me! begged the woman at her feet. there was an almost knife-like twist of pity. a man had put her in this situation, and now a man threatened to make it worse! ah, was this that man?

qiao's green eyes rove between the pugilist and another newcomer, this one announcing herself with a scream before she streaked like a red bullet towards them both.

how much allegiance did qiao owe to akashingo? she'd already bled for them once.

qiao danced out reach of both teeth, eyes flitting between the felled form and her guard. she would try one last time -- but one time only -- before she turned back to her march to the great red halls.

easy! the priestess snapped, fur rippling along her spine. i am the hemet of ramesses' reign. i ask you both -- do you want her to die?