a set of long black nails clicked against the sandstone floor.
she was better than this, and she knew it, made it clear in the way she looked at him with a squinted gaze of pure disdain. the position of jodai was coveted and gave her great power within akashingo — she had earned her place, done the work, and this little emasculated mass of worthless meat thought it was within his right to defile her home.
twice.
if she looked closely enough, she could have perhaps recognized him, but there was not even a hint of this now. she scoffs as she leans back against the wall the way a detective would in a chair, eyebrows lifted tauntingly, though the rest of her face remained taut. so, little boy, she hums. are you going to sit there and pout? or are you going to talk? speaking may even buy you freedom, you know.

had zaahira any clue what he had said to her, she would have roasted him over a fire right then and there, or perhaps stoned him. thankfully, however, she is oblivious; she only watches him, composed and measured, as he squirms deliciously.
hal tatahadath alearabiatu? she asks then, her accent worn away by the red sands. do you understand what i am saying to you at all?
how pathetic, she thinks. but one way or another, he will talk.
you are afraid, she gestures with a muscled limb to his jagged posture, the stiffness of his muscles. i am not here to harm you, boy. pharaoh is not a fan of needless bloodshed, and i abide by her wishes, if nothing else.
she moves now to stand, to slink close to his flank, arched catlike as she lowers herself down beside him. one foreleg drapes over the other while she turns to expose the curve of her belly, her slender hips. men are simple creatures. perhaps he will respond better to the unimposing bloom of femininity. is there anything i can do to make you feel more comfortable?

he is quiet now, but to zaahira, this means her ministrations are working. it disgusts her, having such a leer be laid upon her, but it is bitten back behind a soft laugh.
determination blazes behind the bright summery eyes. her thighs part; nothing is left to the boy's imagination, and she takes pride in this. if she knew who had birthed him in this moment, she would have laughed at how similar he was to his father-figure; so easy to sway, so easily struck by the greatest weapon of a woman and stupidly happy about it.
will you speak now, ya azizi? she purrs, gesturing for the boy to come closer as her lips twist into a venomous grin. or do you need more guidance?

he
spits at her
and the guise is immediately foiled. instantly her reflexes kick in and she slams him down against the floor with a paw pressed sharply to his pulse point, a snarl rippling from her throat. a salmon pink tongue slithers from betwixt her lips and runs over her gums, the sharp teeth that now hang low in front of his face.
you listen to me, you roach, her ears fall down into a splay, blades of hickory fur spiked upward. do you know who the fuck i am? i'll serve your tiny cock to pharaoh beside a bed of wine.
again, again, she is reminded of the hubris of the male species! the gall! she could have killed him right then and there if not for the fact that she unfortunately needed him alive. you are weak. pitiful. nothing more than a pile of shit beneath my feet. now;
she leans close now, breath hot and heavy against his lips; sekhmet, burning within her; you will tell me who fucking sent you, or your skull will become my newest altarpiece. your choice, boy.

the boy still does not answer her.
she realizes now that perhaps he simply could not. he seems to go all but limp beneath her, now, accepting the punishment which was forced upon him. this was growing redundant, and decidedly, she would waste no more of her precious time.
gaatak dahya, she seethes, tongue lashing violently from between her exposed teeth for one last insult before she pries herself away from him, neatly shaking the dust from her coat as if nothing had ever happened. rashepses and his men will have fun with you, i am sure of it.
she rounds the corner and disappears into the shade of the catacombs in search of a much needed drink.