Lion Head Mesa myrrh in a dove's age ☥

the rain continued its falling. prince of marble black wended now in search of @Satakhetem. he did not clean the fallen droplets from his coat; he smirked as he kept the servants on a dash after him.

he burst upon his sister, showered her with "rain!" the boy proclaimed in an arrogant voice that sought now only her favor.

the sound of the rain filled her head with a soft buzzing that she enjoyed at first, but when it continued and grew stronger satakhetem became frustrated by it; she was animated by anger, demanding in her childish way that the fellahin obey her, and make it stop, and warm the palace, and call for ra, of which none of them could succeed and were therefore set-upon by her needle teeth.

unlike her twin, who had fallen under some spell; he came flinging through the corridor, dripping wet, and as happy as satakhetem felt upon seeing her beloved, that same adoration turned sour as he climbed upon her in a great, wet, unwanted hug.

a shriek erupted as the cold touched her, which evolved in to a bashful laughter; the fellahin let out a collective sigh as they had anticipated the worst.

alight with hootings of laughter and gentle nips to her velveteen face, khaemwaset reveled in her joy and sought to bring her more; he kicked away a servant's nurturing hand and overturned a tonic that tavina had set out, chuckling it shattered and spilled.

"satakh," khaem said, as much of her name as he could yet utter, "rain?" he had loved the sound at once upon hearing it; was it the same for her? 

let it be, and he would bring her at once into its touch.