Lion Head Mesa Nefrew

There she was. 

Den's eyes fixed to her features with sharp interest. The mere proximity of his beautiful sister was enough to stir rapid thrumming heartbeats from his small chest. It was as though her presence brought life to his body. Like the closeness of her gold-touched coat was an ember in his soul... and the closer that she drew, the more it grew in size and intensity. 

The young prince flopped himself to his side and gazed up at Neith. His arms spread for her. It was a silent request for his sister. Let me hold you. Let me drink in the familiar fragrance of your coat. Let me nourish you with the warmth of me.