Lion Head Mesa Wishing You the Best in the Worst Way

Semer-wati did not linger.

He swept from the chamber, dismissing his pillared guards and moved for the polished path into the hall of twin plinth thrones. The deep silken pelts like long velvet robes sifted from his shoulders, festooning with starlight when the riverking took his throne. Needle-tip paws thronged the redstone. King set a word into the air:

“Ramesses.”

And the mesa did moan—