Lion Head Mesa plumes

the look on her face becomes slightly unhinged, as she withholds a laugh of her own, or a groan, as the very idea of men together amuses satsu in a way she has no words for. the idea of crowfeather taking anyone to bed makes her stomach drop; but the thought of it being germanicus is too far-fetched.
she knows not the kind of love between a soldier and their squire.
to make up for her aggrieved expression satsu hurries and eats something. it is the fruit that bursts upon her tongue - the flavor strong and tannic, the flesh somehow soft and leather at once.
she sputters and yet forces it down while her throat feels thick.