Lion Head Mesa Ogre Daughters

blue powder barely pigments her eyelids. gold is her personal favorite, but it was too flashy too put on every day for an event. even if her suitors would be watching. not even during the visit to moontide did racharra adorn herself with makeup, only the traditional kohl of the red palace.
she scrutinizes her reflection in a pool, weighing whether this powder is worth bringing. pink was more her color, but this blue is more traditional for a woman of her status.

but the feeling of a pair of eyes bearing into her crashes her train of thought. the dark girl turns around to face her visitor, expecting a curious fellahin or mazoi, but instead finds herself having to tilt her gaze downwards. racharra's lips purse as her own eyes stare back in a much smaller body.

..are you lost? she straightens, drawing a line in the sand between herself and the girl with her nobility. racharra had no heart to dismiss her entirely, no matter how much she wanted to. indeed, she'd made deliberate steps to avoid the new ogres, despite a gentler opinion of them. up until now.