Two Eyes Cenote rust & oil

set for the 12th after his threads w tiye & kheti <3

"@Kiyya."

he was prepared now to go on short excursion with kheti; tiye scrubbed the floors despite her anger; now he had looked for his last child; heart breaking to think of safiya traveling even now;

"it is time to choose your place in muat-riya. what will you be, my son?" a heavy command, but it was one he could not longer wait to issue.

Father called to him, and took him aside. It wasn't a rarity to be singled-out but it didn't happen as often with Kiyya as with his sisters; bu the knew what it meant by now, as he had seen Safiya go and the result was a mazoi schedule; he had seen Tiye go too, but wasn't paying enough attention by then to see if anything came of it.

Now it was his turn and Kiyya was thrilled.

My place? He knew what his father meant, of course. All that Kiyya ever did was try to impress his parents, and he still woke up earlier than his siblings out of habit; the game of mazoi had fallen away but he could not shake the behaviors from his body.

Everyone knew what Kiyya wanted — he was not shy about it.

I wanna be a mazoi like you an' 'fiya. Here, he became unnaturally focused.

"then it shall be."

he thought of bringing kiyya with him now; legend was present. trained guardians might watch the gates while he brought his sons afoot.

"i will tell our hebsut when i make my report." his eyes shone with some quiet pleasure. "you will be a fine soldier, kiyya." how he wished so much that he could take delight in this moment, that he could give the proper praise.

It was finally happening!

Kiyya was thrilled, and it took all of his focus not to erupt in laughter or the stomping of feet, or the wagging of his tail. He was so fixated on sitting firm and being poised like his father that he felt his entire body begin to ache.

The praise of his father was everything he ever wanted. It sparked through Kiyya and filled him with such a strong, good feeling that he was immediately addicted.

The boy stood at rigid attention.

I hope so — I mean, yes sir!

"what do you know of packing rations, kiyya? do you understand what to bring?" khusobek asked.

the joyous anticipation of his son; if only it were transferable. instead the crocodile was unsure into what they would walk, and wished to protect the boys from it.

yet as mazoi they must witness. he would ensure their start was strong and apt.

Packing rations? That wasn't something Kiyya expected to be asked about, and knew very little. He frowned, thinking hard about it; and when he answered he hoped he said the right thing.

Its a lotta old stuff, dry stuff. Meat 'n fruit, right? All those times Kiyya had plunged mouth-first in to the caches and store rooms, he knew what was generally stocked within his home. There were some things meant to be saved for visitors (such as the divinity if they were to come to Muat-Riya) and he knew the taste of these. However, the food the mazoi packed was often not as palatable, and the boy avoided it.

"fruit. meat. moss. cobwebs. agave flesh, if you can find it. these things will give us food, medicine, and water in the desert while we are away."

he was distracted by the pain in his arm; he inhaled a little and smiled at kiyya. "i am looking forward to our march. there is much to see in the world, my son."

much to fear. much to avoid.