Lion Head Mesa Nefer

“Oh Tavina. I’m so sorry.”

From the lips of anyone- an unspeakable agony.

From Tavina- far worse, to glimpse through the cavities of her obsidian impasse. To see the grief there.

It is only a glimpse. The doctor is quick to lay her mantle, to pull her paw and concern herself with the bay’s upkeep. Eset will not protest. This is what she will do with her pain- stow it away.

But not before a fragment will be gathered into the fellahin’s own heart, where it will live aside memories of her mother. Her own pain.

“I pray you find happiness again.”

She looks down at the prepared liquid, bringing it to her lips. Bitterness defiles her tongue but she forces it down.