Lion Head Mesa meadowlands

Neith’s shrine. He had not forgotten to nurture her Goddess in the amiirad’s absence.

The welling tears, again whisked away with a small paw as she spins to offer only the cloaked back to the fellahin’s attentions. Of course, such were the obligations of a servant, even one contracted to serve one of the noble families.

“Tell me, is it a greater duty, or a greater joy to serve your amiirad?” The princess poses, her own sort of test.