Lion Head Mesa Tjaw

The prince basked in the warmth of the sun and the feeling of the wind as it carried across the mesa. The weather had shifted. Nights were colder and the sun was often hidden behind a curtain of clouds. The young wolf could feel the change on the air, too. Those winds carried whispers of something like ice. The first change of season that Den would experience. From summer to autumn, the earth would grow cold. 

A sharp-toothed yawn sounded from the boy. He lifted his eyes to follow the path of three dark-winged birds as they cut across the sky.

charmion carried the scents of honey and herbs. his work had begun long before songs were sent to Ra's ears. he had found himself in between prepping meals and clean living spaces. a man who walked between one part of the palace to another.

another young royal spotted.

charmion carried cleansed furs, it would be these that he approached with. his voice wanted to escape him but it felt like a lump in his throat.

all he offered was a deep bow for now.

"bring my brother a senet board and pieces, fellahin," khaemwaset ordered of the servant, though his eyes did not leave den. "he is bored."

his brother. firstborn, praised by high priest and mother and father, adorned not only in song but imbued with a weight that none of them might ever carry. he had come up from the wellspring; he carried one of the feathers he had shown neith, tucked into the polished fur of one shoulder.

now he stood beside den, watching the last images of those flying birds.

The Fellahin did well to bow when it was meant to. Den lifted his chin to peer at the submissive display. And when Khaemwaset appeared and spoke his command, there was a prickling of pleasure that scurried up the length of the crocodile's spine. Khaemwaset was so good at commanding, at showing his privilege with a glimmering eye and stern tone that wouldn't be denied. 

You will play with me, Den spoke to his brother. The gold hairs upon his snout danced as he made a toothy smile.

it will be done at once, Amiir. he moved from his bow only to scurry off at a pace of quick service. he knew where these things would be and he would be fast in his return. neither masculine royal might wait long for his return but —

they would be free of him for the time it took to collect the game.

"i will, brother," khaemwaset said pleasantly enough. in imitation of their father, he settled languidly beside den, looking up at the empty sky where the birds had flown. "the priests say winter will come. snow, a white blanketing of it on the earth."

his grin suggested that the boy found such notions tedious and unbelievable. who could trust in these things? "senet first. then hounds and jackals, if you like. or — we will go hunting in the reeds."

their life was rich and unhurried; princes should have a thousand diversions.

last from me unless khaem orders more <3

he returned with the game pieces. he, too, had brought bedding for lounging comfort wherever they wished. another fellahin would come soon with the offering of refreshments. he had done all he could to try and think ahead.

yet he knew young royals had whims beyond the minds of most any!

all he could do for now was be on standby and quickly obey any orders given.