Lion Head Mesa con[m]igo

the expression on his face made belen feel small and girlish. she watched his small frame emerge from the water and numbly followed. there was a small stack of pelts nearby and she grabbed one to offer gucci for drying. one of the worst parts about her misstep was that belen did not have anyone to which she might run. crowfeather was aware of the workings inside the mesa; he would have called for her had she been wanted. "do not tell the prince about me. please," belen added, scorched by the noble rejection. she wanted to argue with gucci and tell him that intrigue did not make him smaller in her eyes. but the servant could muster no more now.