Lion Head Mesa sun touched

no worries!

To say Briar knew the inhabitants of Akashingo and Muat-riya would have been a farce. What connections he could claim were superficial. A traveler met once before by a patrolling mazoi. A guest once before at a grand party with a wide array of foreign faces. A wanderer thrown into the mix of diplomats and residents. A stranger at the gates with a woman in distress.

My name is Briar Cayde. His head dipped, curving towards the ground before returning to its position. The halted, barely formed introduction from the fellahin was ultimately a formality. Briar knew who he spoke to.

Thank you, Pharaoh, for assisting her.

Gratitude was tricky thing. Coming and going and sometimes being absent altogether. Sometimes it was just a motion to perform. Today? Briar he'd be a liar to claim it wasn't genuine.