Sly Fox Sand Dunes stairway to neterikhet

no worries!

The mistress watched him with a knowing gaze, her golden gaze tracking his subtle movements, the way his posture softened and the flicker of his ear towards the southern horizon. The distant stars, half invisible beneath the day’s harsh light, seemed to call to him, a quiet reminder of his connection to something beyond the endless dunes. She almost envied that stillness in him, the quiet beneath the surface. 
When he responded to her praise, his tone laced with something deeper, something unspoken, she gave a soft, almost imperceptible hum, her tail flicking lazily. „It should be,” she mused, her voice a velvet whisper, „For those who understand what it means to do the right thing, it becomes... rare.”
Her gaze shifted briefly as she dusted off the faint traces of sand that clung to her coat. She watched him begin to move, his stride careful, measured, and something about the way his leg barely touched the ground caught her attention.
His name, Nokht, fell from his lips, and she repeated it softly to herself, testing the sound. „Shiruyeh,” she answered, the name rolling from her tongue with a quiet grace. A sly smile tugged at the corner of her lips, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before she flicked her tail. „Let us go, Nokht. There is a sea of sand between us and the water.”