Sun Mote Copse kyrie, fons bonitatis

the woman was deferent, gentle. eshamun liked her immediately, not only for her submission but the curiosity that lurked beneath her quiet tones. the ekar-aji did not fear for her life, not when the priestess lived still, and khalba, and asherah -- the life of the malkaria was collective. "and i am here to answer your questions," eshamun murmured in the desert-accent of her language's cadence, approaching until she stood only a few feet from the stranger. "but first, one of mine, if you please: do you seek a home?"