Rosewater Oasis i

he does not flinch at the press of her body; instead, he welcomes it. it is sad to see it go when she parts from him again, but he is not in the mood for demands. he instead offers her a warm, but calculating eye.

we are even only for a breath, hemet, serpentine lips curve faintly. you have been spared a life of misery. you have my word that i will be good to you.

even he knew, and could admit, the cruelty of his loved ones. and samir... he was not much better than them, by any means, but slavery of innocents was quite a barbaric taste. far too... unpalatable for him.

he tilts his head, voice softening. realization dawns upon him.

you come from nemkha. paws soften against dunes, and dunes turn to sandstone, and sandstone to verdant green as he leads her beneath tall swinging palms and jungle foliage. the oasis is not at the height of its beauty, plagued by the winter season, but it is clear now: spring will bring forth bounty.

vahanet shall thrive.

quench your thirst. we shall speak more while you rest. a demand of her pharaoh and he settles into a feline lounge, eyes never straying far from her beauty. he found it so bizarre how slave girls were often prettier than the finest bred of nobles.