Lion Head Mesa a whispering god

For an instant, something flickered across the Prince's face—too quick to catch, too subtle to name. It snagged Machi’s attention nonetheless, a curious quirk pulling at his brow. A muddy ear flicked, opal eyes darting to the doorway and lingering as paranoia took root, next then to the ancient walls that seemed eternally listening. A shiver ran up the dog's spine.

Drawing himself back to the moment, he fixed his attention once more on Senmut, lips curving into a smile, I think, Machi began, the words laced with a faintly melodramatic lilt, if I am forced to linger a moment longer in these waters, I shall freeze to death where I stand, darling.

His voice dropped slightly then, pitched low enough for discretion but not so low that an attentive shadow might not catch it. Might we retire to your chambers? A sly pause, coaxing, head tilting ever so slightly as he let the faintest hum of amusement bleed into his next words. Perhaps there, you could share all those ruinous thoughts, hmm?