Lion Head Mesa the darkest side of me

A clench in his jaw—if witnessed—might have been the only indication of his hesitation of coming to these borders once more. He had given Eivor mild warnings of Akashingo—a breakdown of the history he had come to know, with the unspoken hint that perhaps they try not to be separated from one another for too long.

Still, boisterous and wild, he was uncertain if the shield maiden would be satisfied remaining sequestered to a room.

Their news here was meant to be brief—hopefully they could learn something more of this group of wolves who had attacked a child—and then they could also be on their way.

Before he could even call—as customary to most places—the guards befell them in a swoop. He straightened, a sideways glance to @Eivor offered in silent communication that this is how it would be—before informing the mazoi they were here to offer assistance to Akashingo’s call of arms—and that it was imperative to see either Senmut or the Pharaoh @Toula.