Lion Head Mesa Nefrew

The sun grew heavy. 

Den watched with fierce intensity as his beautiful sister drifted... slipping behind closed eyes and soft breathing. The grip of his arms on her had softened. But still, he held her to his chest so that she would know his presence even in dreams. That he would be her constant flowing river. He would cut through earth and stone to fill a sea of love for his sun. 

One last kiss was drawn at the bridge of her nose. The wet of his snout pressed to the short hairs between her eyes and Den drank in the scent of her. His Neith.