Hideaway Strath falcon

ramesses pondered the winding sweep. he meant to procure a den for himself, removed from this organized band of heathens.
no, pharaoh. you are humbled. here it is you who is are the fellahin.
a stiff reminder that he was not within the hallowed pillars of his natal land. the pale exile wandered aimlessly between the trees, searching for even the beginnings of something he could meld into more.
he found it in the abandoned badger set not far ahead of himself; ramesses saw the way he might dig down beneath the stone lip. he set about this excavation with a somber look to his face, one that curled in greater disgust the more he filthied himself with clods of soil.