Lion Head Mesa [m] Elephantine

His grin infectious—shyly, she looked to him as he complimented, and her own smile became more true upon her slender features. “Bergamot is magic,” she murmured before ensuring her eyes directed once more to her task—surely, it was no wonder the royal princes and princess were so beautiful—their parents were the very definition of it!

“Mint is, too. Perhaps, next time, we can try that,” she offered—and then realizing her assumption that she would be the one tending to him—she felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “I can make the suggestion to your fellahin…” Bumbling—tongue tied. He made her so tongue-tied!

And then—he whispered a word to her, and she blinked, looking up to him, though she continued to knead one paw to the muscle, to mend the pain along the collarbone—the cusp of a shoulder blade. “Petenet?” She whispers the word—foreign to her, and upon her tongue as ice lazuli eyes reach up to simmering gold.