Lion Head Mesa use somebody

qiao made no effort to correct gucci on his misinterpretation. when he felt the knife, he would know.

she watched as he dipped a clubbed paw into the pool. ringlets swirled away from his touch.

the prince was gone. this qiao had not known. had she not seen him only yesterday? gone? and where, exactly, does a cripple hobble off to? perhaps this was ramesses' design; maybe the prince had outlived his usefulness. yet that seemed decidedly short-sighted for a creature like ramesses.

perhaps he had returned to mereo.