Lake Bismuth I’m shipping up to Boston.

Samirseti’s gaze flicked lazily toward the pair as they approached, his golden eyes catching the light like molten coins. He did not move immediately, content to let their steps close the distance, the faintest glimmer of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Quite the assumption," he murmured, his tone smooth as silk, laced with faint amusement. His posture remained relaxed, tail swishing lightly against the sandstone, a picture of deliberate composure. "Though you are correct—I do make my home here, in the heart of this desert's finest jewel."

He rose then, his movements deliberate and feline in their grace as he stretched his long limbs before leaping down from his perch to meet the strangers. His size became more apparent as he stood before them, the sunlight playing off his gilded accents.

"I am Samirseti, Pharaoh of Vahanet," he offered, his voice rich and resonant.