Lion Head Mesa (ap) sympathy butters no parsnips

the crazed man had snapped at jawahir, signaling that it was time to withdraw. now the chaos of the party gave rise to a rumor which proved true: that the red-coat had returned, that he was being beset by the mazoi, that ramesses called for blood.

they wished to witness this fine thing, if only for the splendor of pharaoh. to get a taste of that rage. alas, jawahir was squaring away some berries back among the stores, so they were not privy to this.

a voice from behind.
the pale woman from the caldera; until now jawahir had forgotten about their deal, so smitten was the mumis with life here in akashingo.
the grin that spread upon their face spoke to none of this.

lady ruenna, a bow of the head, the shifting of tall ears. she went on to speak apologies and jawahir feigned bashfulness.

my lady! i should apologize. it has been a busy time for me, for us here at akashingo. i lost a sister, and then the war came, and now this. do not worry. as they spoke their words grew hushed as well, careful, as if the walls had ears - which jawahir knew, they did.