Lion Head Mesa Atum

From the bath to the halls, Kasmut had dried her pale coat. She had rolled in petals to bring a sweet fragrance to her furs – the last she had. The flower would not be able to obtain more until spring had come and then she would smell of all the lovely things in the wild.

Padding quietly through the halls, the Fellahin thought of Ramesses. The very idea of the Pharaoh filled her with longing, desire, and as she trailed through the mesa’s corridors Kasmut smiled. The flower thought of @Jawahir and began to search for the jewel of Akashingo. They were a fine pair, or so the Pharaoh seemed to think. Perhaps the jewel would be open to company.

A floral scent came down the hall, and Gucci, just exiting Crowfeather's chambers, followed it. The touch of artificial lavender had long faded away from his fur and grime had ruined his precious sweater, leaving the chihuahua grossed out by his own lack of hygiene. At least now he smelled like he belonged there, among the feral canines of Akashigo. 

He followed the fragrance, his dog tag tinkling with each pair of steps. Soon, he saw the creamy white form of a most graceful Fellahin. He made a little yap to announce himself.

"G'day, Miss!" As of late he'd been a bit too anxious to afford anything more than a polite smile and a single wag of the low-held tail. "Ah must inquire, what d'ya use t' smell jes' so exquisite?"

The little man who spent his time with the injured boy had appeared.

Kasmut regarded him with a curious gaze, her lips curled into a small smile. He wished to know what she used to smell the way she did. The flower breathed a soft sigh, the touch of a laugh at its end.

There are flower petals that smell quite fragrant, little one.

The pale figure lowered her head so that her gaze could meet his more easily. He did not look anything like a child. He did not look anything like a wolf, at all. Kasmut had never seen such a peculiar little man. The sweater that hung upon his body drew her sniffing nose toward it. She pulled back at the last moment.

You have curious scents upon you, as well. Faint, but she could still pick up the foreign aromas that lingered. Are you a collector of smells?