Lion Head Mesa Mountain

He knows it's a busy time. The children are barreling through the kingdom and there are many whispers. He hopes to keep his children away from the darkness outside Akashingo's wing.
Today he patrols and wishes to bring one of his lights with him. Medjay passes by the children in the morning in the midst of patrol.
"@Taliba! Come walk with me."

Mesen-ka's voice interupts the girl as she is stripping the bark off a stick. Teeth pinching and shredding and sharpening. Flecks of a wood litter the stone floor beneath her. The half-ogre looks upwards at her father. Little tail wagging.

Coming, baba.

Rising to gangly legs and wide paws, the girl pauses. She leans down to bring her chosen toy with her. Swiping away the debris with paw before weaving circles around her father's legs.

It's hard not to want to squish her cute little cheeks between his claws. Dear, but then he would pierce his child's skin and then his heart would break into many pieces. The strange aggressions that came with staring at tiny adorable faces for too long.
She has bark for a toy. They are walking by the mazoi's many rooms, but it is hard when she is weaving between his leg(poles) like real poles! She must be restless. "I see I am in due for bringing you some far more suitable toys, my little Taliba! I am only walking the palace today, but I wanted for you to come with me, so that one day you will be as familiar with these walls as I. How have you been feeling, little soldier?" Hyper!

The girl is a tripping hazard. Velcroing to her father's legs, she is quite pleased with herself whenever he staggers. It was a game of sorts, not that the girl would tell her father such. Her stick is kept neatly behind her canines. Her father speaks of new toys!

The girl queries past the stick, What would you bring, Baba? She moves to the outside of her father's forelegs. The mazoi banter within their chambers. Her eyes glance into the rooms as they pass, wide and attentive.

I am fine. It is quiet without Pharaoh. Her gaze turns to her father's face. Why aren't we hunting, Baba?

It is a gift from the gods he has not planted face down on her body! He looks a fool, lifting each leg up higher than the next while trying to avoid the little Mesen babe's running feet below. She has him in a fancy equine trot until she relents!

There will be holes found in the sides of unassuming Mazoi's heads if they teach his daughter their foul banter words.

"A leather tug for you and your brothers! I need to be in the market for rolling stones and prey bundles, too. I thought you might appreciate a plush fox tail! We have a palace not far from here with beautiful women maintaining gardens and pigments, too. I'd like to take you there some day!"

She wishes to hunt. There is something somber. "I know it is hard seeing everyone leave. ..We must stay back this time. It is my duty to guard our kingdom, and one day, it may be yours too. Even if I were the only one here, I would stay to protect the throne. Our soul is to the gods, and it is my greatest honor."

He whispers, "Even if it may be a bit boring most days!"

The girl's tail wagged as her father listed the toys he had in mind. Little teeth gritted upon the stick in her jaws at the thought of sharing a toy with her brothers. A tug would not be yielded from her jaws easily. But her attention piques at the mention of a fox tail. The fox furs she had seen the adult fellahin carry to replace the bed furs for nobles had captivated the half-ogre's watchful eye. The furs, even if soiled, were beautiful.

Baba, gave no indications she had to share the fox tail. It would be all hers.

The thought pleased the little, beastly girl immensely.

I would like a tail! Eager was her voice, I would like to see the other palace too.

Golden, sunlit eyes watched the lines upon her father's face. Mesen-ka had always gazed softly upon her, she felt. She felt the same gentleness stir within her and a softness in her chest when she saw him too. The girl supposes that this is what it is to feel familial love so greatly it is physical.

There is a melancholic note to her father's voice, but there is a reverence to his words. Taliba had also seen the strength rose within her father. The straightening of his spine when he stood guard to Pharaoh and Semer-wati. The authority that bled into his voice and the keen glint to his eye.

She believed that he was honored by his role wholeheartedly. Her father was an embodiment of someone who loved his job. In the selfish, immature manner of a child, the girl held a glint of jealously for the love Mesen-ka held for his job. It nestled in her chest, vested beneath her skin. Nor did she hold an appreciation for the boring day.

But Taliba loved her father. So the girl simply grunted in acknowledgement. She walked by her father's side, enjoying that he spent this time with her.