As the days had past, Nokht had been afforded some rejuvenation; the dust from his fur awash in an oasis bath, his stomach no longer clawing at the inside of him, and shade, blessed shade.


His leg too, had been cared for best it could be. He wore his pain without a break in his expression. All that had happened, he could hardly feel it. He was too busy looking out over the pools as the glow of evening sun glimmered on the surface, dancing beneath the light.


Birds sung sweet melodies on the breeze; there was quiet, calm chatter around corners and the dazzling blue waters of the oasis evoked a sort of carefree comfort, he was without weight in the briefest of moments.

But only ever brief ones, they took to wing like birds, and left him behind, always, burdened with all that had been done and could never be undone.

The boy laid by the edge of the oasis, belly in the sand and his paws at rest in the waters. Eyes of gold and gemstone pulled awy to glance at the looming shadows.

He lent her an ear and a gaze dull as the desert dunes; lost. And then it is gone, and nothing replaces it. A cold, wall of indifference.

He looked down to the jackrabbit; caught only through swiftness. What a terrible irony, that they had been one of his favourites.

Some had done this before. Come to him with little offerings when the bosses weren't watching. Nothing ever came of it. When they pretended to be kind, it was all that much worse.

...You do not need to give me your food, miss. Whatever reservations haunted him, when he did speak, he spoke with practiced manners and soft respect. Though his gaze would not leave her once. It was afraid to.

Not her eyes, but her movements.

Got bored and killed it. She says with an easy sort of nonchalance, and leaves him to make his verdict. Eat it, play with it, leave it...

There was a playful touch, one that tried to crack a smile, but his walls simply loomed too high. Picking the lock did very little, one needed a battering ram to get through.

Well, it seemed like she wasn't going anywhere in a rush; quite the opposite as she flopped down to the earth next to him.

Thank you. he caves to her insistence, a sandy paw reaching out to bring it closer to his chest. He would eat it, because he was not ungrateful enough to leave it and he was far too grown up to play with it. The meat tasted sweet on his tongue, like simpler times.

He pecked away at his food and summoned the courage to speak openly, curious of this woman he'd not seen before. Were you a part of akashingo's courts? He asks in a low voice, coyish ears perked. A question far deeper veiled beneath. Could others have survived?

Perhaps he was still naive. A boy who still didn't realize the true breadth of the world.

Her confusion answered his question before her words had. Nokht felt that pit of resignation grow once more; what a stupid thing, to have hoped for anything different.

Ah- sorry. I just- wondered if anybody else had come here. he filled his mouth with hare's meat again, to keep the choke from escaping his throat.

Dead dead dead. How was he meant to live with this? He went on while everyone he loved stayed right where they were, forever.

you're not too plain.. He murmured without looking up, genuine as he spoke.

He hadn't realized a frown had cracked his stoic expression, and took a breath to remedy it. I'm afraid I don't know the place all that well, yet.. He murmured, having spent his first few days in an exhaustion coma, and the rest too suspicious to venture far.

Even then... it was something to do, something other than loss to occupy his thoughts. He began to lift himself up, an awkward endeavour as he accounted for the crookedness of one half. The muscles in his legs burned and struggled, but he refused any assistance, intent on carrying himself, from now on. But.. we can still look around, I know where some things are. he spoke quietly, venturing outside of monotone for once.

Really, he was glad for the company, for the lightness she seemed to wish to pull out of him.

He put his legs to the test again, no longer wracked with an exhaustion so potent it burned fires through every nerve; this could've been peaceful. Could've been.

One glaring part would always rob him of peace. His features pulled back in subtle strain every other step, he'd gotten used to bearing it in silence. Survived bearing it in silence.

He followed the waters, winding, shallow pools flanked with the vibrant blooms of desert roses; hundreds of them.
Tall palms reached to the sky, as if they might someday reach the sun, their trunks cast hanging shadows over the resplendant blue of the oasis, deeper and darker as they neared the largest of the pools. Perhaps the most lush of sectors, the main grounds were flanked with the brilliant scatterings of wildflowers and walls of green creosote shrubs, tall enough to shield from the desolate wastes that surrounded them.

.It's pretty, here. He murmured as he lead their pace, slow and limping.

Reminded him of home, in some ways. Even the pink of desert rose stirred a memory tainted with the face of death. A sister once wore one, plucked by him, himself.

That is where the hunters and warriors rest. He gestured with his chin one way. And further in is where the injured and sick stay.

Pharoah and Hemet-nesut take the nicest spot, where it is more private... higher and closer to the gods.

There was little reverence in the words as he spoke them. It unsettled him some, he knew that pharoah was blessed by them, crafted in their image; but the old pharoah had been too, and it did not stop the gods from crushing him in one single act of wrath. It seemed their love was a fickle thing. He saw it as an invitation for disaster. ...I do not come over here, much. He murmured. Nokht had been resigned to solitude since the wrappings of his leg came off, keeping to the quietest end of the oasis.