Lion Head Mesa butterflies

i agree wholeheartedly, Amiirad. a bow of his head and the barest hints of a smile on his face. it was hard not to be warmed by the radiance of the divine youth. not yet stewed so deep into politics as to hold a scrutinizing eye to each face and word. soon, he reminded himself. as was their birthright.

it was with a fellahin's eye that he looked upon her chamber. of course it had been tended to with the utmost care. everything in order, in its place. the scent of it was not stale.

there is an emotion within him at the sight of the lynx fur. he wonders if all the children might be so kind and gracious as the Pharaoh who brought them earthside. maybe not the boys, he thinks, but will the daughters? the world will flourish with them.

you have a blessed eye, Divine One. he had not thought that he would suggest blessings and prayers but his mouth opened — if i might be so bold as to suggest, Divine One, perhaps after six days of Neith recreating the world in Her vision, you return for the fur. on the seventh day you return, ask for Her to stay within it so that you may wear Her blessing always.

he is deathly silent when his words end. the realization at how much he had spoke. olive gaze fluttered nervously for a moment before he bowed. offering himself as sacrifice if he had misspoke or stepped beyond his role.