Lion Head Mesa Toiling

The priest’s words, laced with teasing reverence, were met with a faint bow of his head, golden eyes gleaming.

As they ascended the rough-hewn steps, the grandeur of Akashingo revealed itself in cascading layers of wealth and life. Within the cavernous heart of the mesa, the air buzzed with vitality—subjects moving with purpose, laughter weaving through the hum of activity. The opulence here was palpable, a stark contrast to the endless austerity of the dunes.

It was as though he had stepped into a realm of gods.

For a moment, the pale envoy was silent, his gaze drifting as though seeing something far away—only to resettle on the handsome Erpa-ha.

"It is nothing like this," he admitted, gesturing to the splendor surrounding them. "My home is a place of silence and stars. A place that demanded much in return. Simplicity is—was survival."

From where he had settled upon a rug of warm fur, a foreleg extended, reaching to press paw to Senmut's in friendly gesture. "You have spoiled me today."