Lion Head Mesa divide

she would never forget this place.

the early morning offered long lines of shadows for her to dance across the flatlands. she knew that even if the halls emptied out, the mesa would always stand as an obelisk to many things.

much time had sprawled out between her last steps here. she dared go no further than the border wall. she knew trained eyes might see her already, long before she had come this close.

did her monument of grief still stand?

were there still princesses dancing at ceremonies?