Lion Head Mesa Thárros

Jahwahheer, the Greek pronounced it awkwardly on purpose, his grin never faltered. When he mulled the name over on his tongue, he bounced his head pleasantly in agreement.

I am called Arsenio, and I am the personal guard to the lady queen Satsu. The auburn wolf continued to nod his head, well after he had finished speaking. The persistent bob of his large skull had become rhythmic, and he hoped that it would imply something of a simple nature to the sharp eyes of the Pharaoh’s toy. Jawahir seemed swift and capable. Arsenio did not want to test the wolf’s power.

We will go together, yes! Lead us, Jahwahheeer.

The misthofóros smiled easily. When he blinked, his eyes became glassy and faraway.