Lion Head Mesa ashes

The maidservant bristled visibly, Arsenio grinned at the spike of hairs along her nape and shoulders. Where had such a fire come from in a servant girl? Who was the wolf Jawahir to have lured her into the Pharaoh’s possession? The misthofóros had not yet met the ruler of the mesa, but the man cast an imposing shadow by way of the words of his people.

Tamar, do you not like the way I look? the auburn wolf inquired, his voice light. Though he did not move to stand in front of her, the guard did position himself beside her. He sighed a content little noise before glancing toward the autumn maid and grinning.

The dark little medic has appointment with the lady queen. Arsenio shrugged at this, as if to say that it was reason enough to leave his post for a short time.