Lion Head Mesa myrrh

inaros calls for @Rashepses, finally completing his pilgrimage from ta-senet to find his brothers.

prince, receive me, for i have arrived!

Akashingo called for aid, and Ta-senet answered. Their militia grew weekly, amassing the most dangerous and skilled muscle in the south. So confident was the king that this was the genesis of the most powerful fleet known to wolfkind: Mereo.

But no seasoned warrior met their border this day. Had Ta-senet sent a squire? Upon approach the riverlord’s nostrils flared in disaffection only for his eyes to fall upon the once-familiar face of Inaros. A child no more, who stood before him was a young man.

Rashepses’ laugh resounded, greatly amused and yet passionately he clapped an arm around the yearling, letting the familial scents of the river fill him.

“You, baby brother, have come to serve the Red Kingdom?” It was a look that teased as much as it delighted. How his face had changed!

rashepses receives him with all the mirth in the world!

a brotherly bond between the boy from the barracks and the divine consort that trespassed manifested bloodties.

not if you choke me out! he coughs but matched in boyish joy, shoving at his prince's chest before he's tucked into his knuckle and come out with carpet burn on his pretty head!

Rashepses’ smile was broad as he let him go, standing back to appraise the boy in full.

“You look not a day older, boy,” he teased, though certainly it was not the truth! Inaros was lankier, stronger, somehow the red on his face seemed fiercer.

“Come,” the royal moved them towards the grand entrance of the palace, “we’ll settle into a few bottles of wine and you tell me how your journey has been.”

that will do me nicely, brother.

akashingo! muat-riya! he felt as if he was granted the deed to these places, no guard-captain over his shoulder, no poring over deckle-mold combat courses—he would be regarded like a true warrior, despite his prince's teasings ( all taken in stride, surely )!

what were their courts like? their nobles, officials? he would be sure to taste them all--what to spit out, what to taste first, and what to wrap in newspaper and pickle for later.

There would be a time for the full tour of the estate, but for now the regal whisked his riverlad to a gleaming room which he had arranged explicitly for leisure. He gestured to a fine hare rug and sunk his silken form down upon a pile of silver swan plumes.

Three fellahin quickly came to attend them, two to massage their shoulders and another coming round with an offering of sweating berries.

“Summerwine,” he told the boy, “especially sweet.” He flattened the fruit between his teeth and held up an arm for his servant girl to stroke.

“Tell me about your training in Ta-senet,” he purred, shifting a pleased look at Inaros.