Lion Head Mesa ingemuo

what an ugly dance this was. crowfeather had come. germanicus did not expound, and so pharaoh was content enough to entertain himself with notions of a grim and loveless meeting. but then again perhaps the good new roman wife was also unbothered by the extracurriculars of good roman husbands.
he leaned his head back against the curve of the redrock throne.
emptiness again, spoiling any sport ramesses might have taken in the moment.
"yes. were you made a father this year, roman? do we have one commonality now?"