Lion Head Mesa forswear it, sight

"i am belen," she murmured with a flashing smile. nasima — the name was as lovely as the woman now at her side. "you are nursemaid to the young ones?" came her question, though she still had not ascertained for herself who they were. sighing, silvertongue closed her eyes against the burgeoning cold around their palace, having not noticed the other servant's perusal of where her leg — or perhaps she only chose to ignore it.