Lion Head Mesa bobcat

night had fallen and the air of the mesa was cold. freezing, even.

still she remained on the fringes of the land. her land. gaze fixed upon the meadow that she had intended to prepare for neb gucci.

she thought of how well nazli would hunt such land. what a hunter her lilac had become in mereo.

pain, sharp, under her ribs.

she sent a fellahin off to fetch @Khaba.

They had traveled many days, with little time to recuperate after finally arriving home. So when a fellahin came with a summons, the jodai was forced to dismiss the weariness from his facade.
From where near the meadow Makono had called from, his arrival was swift.
With a harsh wave of his tail, the fellahin was dismissed. Khaba slowly joined at the girl's side. There he stood, giving her shoulder a light brush of his muzzle, ensuring she was aware of his presence. 

touch.

he could not know that it made her miss her lilac fuller. she thought of moments in the oasis of mereo. swimming post-training and exchanging words.

perhaps six months would not have been so awful to be away.

did i disturb you? her voice was soft, leaving in foggy wisps through the cold air between them.

Slumping down in a low sit, Khaba hunched forward to near himself closer to her level. Never would they match in height, but this was the best gesture he could offer.
No. He answered flatly.
After more moments of silence, the man's silver eyes fluttered downward. He waited for more words, wondering why she had brought him here.

no.

she wondered if he said such of duty to her, or from truth. then decided it mattered not.

i believe it's time. her words a gentle assertion. yet still she allowed her gaze to drift to his face. searching those moon eyes and stoic features, wondering what she could gauge.

not this very hour but...perhaps after morning prayers to Ra.

It was time, or so she thought.
A sigh couldn't be stopped as it escaped his lips. It wasn't quite a sound of dread, but not one of joy either. One of acceptance, nonetheless.
Will you be the one to share the news, or shall I? While he probably already knew the answer, confirmation was better than to walk into that throne room completely blind.

a sigh.

perhaps she was too on edge from the meeting she had held with her father lord pharaoh. still she could not help but counter his question with one of her own.

do you believe it to not be time?

how soon until fellahin spoke of whispered voices among guard and prince? or something slipped free?

His sigh had been heard; considered and questioned.
Did he think it was time?
One truth of life I know well is that there really is no right time for anything. It is better to be done now, lest we face consequences for it later.
This was the best way he knew to work it.. and he hoped she would leave it at that.

we think the same.

a veiled compliment.

she wondered if somehow, in someway, khaba would be removed from her too. a midas touch in a way, perhaps. everything she cultivated grew in worth. was sent elsewhere.

a sharp suck in of breath.

his throne room in the morning. a date, set upon them by the sun's mark. have you met the new mazoi?

They were in agreement, then.
I will be ready. Or as ready as he ever would be.
The thought of a new mazoi was a distraction for his mind, though. But whether it was good or bad, he wasn't sure.
I wasn't aware we had one, Khaba admitted, ever so sharply. 
As jodai, now, he could only imagine what sort of assignments pharaoh would have for him now. An idea started with whom Makono spoke of.

bayek of siwa.

this she informed him of in a warm way. warm only for khaba, most certainly not for the man her father intended as a replacement.

he is a medjay. are you familiar with such a title in our ways, jodai? she faulted him not either way. uncertain just how much culture he had been steeped in before their trip to mereo had swept him away.

Bayek of Siwa. Medjay. He echoed, searching for a sense of familiarity. But there was none.
I do not know of the title, no. The jodai was not yet well versed in the ways the pharaoh or his people knew. Yet, here was his chance to learn.

messengers and warriors. a ranger of a soldier. unlike you who stays close to me or pharaoh.

but her eyes always returned back to khaba.

but you are jodai, above him. you should hold this knowledge when you meet him.

She explained the purpose of this medjay. Initially, he was not a fan. His immediate frown indicated such.
What is the purpose of a warrior, if not to defend the palace and those in it? It is what mazoi were made for. Was it not?

because he is not just warrior. mazoi too can be scouts. messengers and rangers sent far beyond the palace. to other claims, to strengthen us beyond the mesa. just as i do when i venture.

her lips pulled into a thin line.

he should be tested.

So, mazoi were meant as more?

Still, Khaba was not a fan. But he was not in the mood to continue on arguing either.

Makono offered a what appeared a haughty grin then, a suggestion to follow. A test, she wished.

He will be. I will see to that. As the newest, he will know his place as mazoi. The title slipped firmly from his tongue — an emphasis of his view for the newcomer. He would remain mazoi in the jodai's eyes.. and nothing more.