Heron Lake Plateau to walk a path of slaughter

the endless churn of scarred faces and babies. kynareth's stories resonated with pharaoh, but he was beginning to grow bored again. this time it was different; he had no dearth of pleasures among the saints, and the tall hierarchy presented a blessed challenge to climb.
today he ranged out, in search of things to hear and to learn.
but more than that, his flesh ached for the physical; ramesses was spoiled and hedonistic.
he moved swiftly away from the strath and into territories for which he had no name. he recalled few of them, only that cedar-dust clung to him when he came to the rushing waters.
but he was not here. a strongly built figure he did not immediately recognize as feminine was present. pharaoh crossed grandly to the lake's edge and drank, sparing her a look with sly lapis eyes.