Lion Head Mesa no more listless invitations

one of nazli's favorite duties involved the wellspring.

when nobody was around, she could enter the chamber and pretend all manner of things. the air here was refreshingly cool; sometimes the water smelled, but it did not take long for her to clean it.

if she worked quickly enough, nazli could use the remainder of her time to tip her toes in; never for long, and always with an eye on the door.

today she did not have much to tend to — giving her ample time to lounge, sprawling on one of the stone slabs by the water's edge, looking very much like a proper neb.

nazli was growing steadily in to her body now. she was lean, almost gaunt; an athletic girl as required of a fellahin. little by little though, she resembled jawahir less, and vaguely, the deceased queen.

such things nazli did not notice, even with the pristine mirror of the wellspring to look at.