Lion Head Mesa a whispering god

It’s my assumption she sanctioned this—unless, of course, she too remains conveniently unaware, the piebald man murmured, tone just as casual as how he prodded at the meal before him, idly rearranging its contents. Forgive me for being frank, darling, but if Pharaoh had any genuine concern for these events, Eset wouldn’t have ventured out alone in the first place, would she?

My fear, however, is that she did make it back to Muat-Riya. The desert ruffians, troublesome though they may be, can be dealt with, and the Hebsut is resourceful. The consort, however? Machi sighed, shaking his head and leaning back to be further enveloped in the pelt. His voice dipped low, quieter now, One way or another, she must be found quickly.

Machi’s gaze drifted upward, shattered-glass eyes glinting serpentine from beneath the heavy folds of the pelt. You have heard of it now, came the blunt reply, voice soft but the suggestion clear. I will keep you informed of whatever I learn.