Two Eyes Cenote When I said leave me alone, this isn't quite what I meant

@Toula @Senmut for visibility!

Melody had thought herself quite safe within Akashingo's new claim. She'd spent much of her time with Princess Ashikaga of late, but when she'd requested that she keep an ear out for any gossip, the Hemet had taken to departing sometimes in hopes of striking up a conversation. But it was difficult. Ashikaga had openly spoken against Toula, and Melody was not unaware of the enemies she might have made in standing with the Amiirad. She couldn't find it in herself to approach any of those she knew to be loyal to Toula.

And she never would.

Not a single sound marked her passing in the night, but sunrise would shine light on the still, mangled form at the outskirts of the cenote. Throat torn; the wound which had killed her, but far from the only one. Mingled with the blood was the scent of a certain dark-furred coyote who had visited the pass only days before. A coyote who was not very pleased with this gathering of wolves in her desert.

Now her displeasure made itself known.

the cry of fellahin woke senmut.

in hurried, gasped whispers, it came to light: melody, dead, with coyote scent all around her.

"summon @Rashepses. tell @Zaahira she is not to leave the queen's side, she nor @Eset."

he was rushing now, long strides. "khusobek is to be posted at royal door. urge the queen to stay in her rooms for now."

blood, darkening the sand in a sea. he stared upon it for a long moment, then turned.

"tell the princess @Ashikaga she too must be here. go now."

she had been with her husband to be; together, they dreamt again of Mereo. she wondered if it might be wise to reenlist the aid of the once-Imperator… but recalled how tired he had been. perhaps he would never wish to do the work again. it was something she had been about to discuss with Rashepses when someone came to the door for him, and when she drew to move with him she was urged to stay.
something was amiss! she peered to the soon-to-be Jodai who had been urged to stay with her, feeling grateful for her, and though she rallied now against the command she knew this was a task she must entrust to the Sphinx as it was a matter of her safety.
and she did trust him. she looked to him with that and love in her gaze, still moving nearer and touching his shoulder gently with his muzzle—a woman performing the intimate act of putting on the jacket of her soldier, helping him to button it neatly up before he went. be safe, she willed, and then, the Gods go with you. 
when he returned, she knew that he would tell her all that had transpired. for now, she watched him go with worry heavy in her heart.

Zaahira had been near when the cry rounded the desert.
The fellahin dance around a mangled figure, pooled in scarlet; Melody. The one who had chosen Ashikaga.
Shock then twists into rage, all held behind a cool gaze. The order from erpa-ha is overheard — Zaahira is not to let the Queen out of her sight. Very well. She would, perhaps, alert Rashepses herself, if presented the opportunity.
Melody will soon enter the Hall of Ma'at. She turns immediately to return to the side of her pharaoh.

Dust formed cloud as the imp skidded on the desert grounds to a halt. Curiosity drove the devils player to a new board. Her tail tucked violently, ears pulled to her scalp with chattering teeth. Mazoi, Zaahira, a departing figure and pooled on the ground in hells red was the mutilated limbs and throat of Melody. Bowing her head, clicks of noises chirped from her throat. An impish smile on imp lips, her tail slamming rapidly in disturbed alarm.

Her nose touched the ground. She smelled and took in rich scent; blood, iron, thick and heavy down her lungs. Melody's scent, slipping around her mind, and another that she was soon repeating like a skipping record.
Coyote blood.

Will delete if not welcome. :)

As she slept, Meridian's dreams were of turmoil. Of blood and ill omens.

She woke up to a commotion, perched on the outcrop of a cliff. Wolves. More importantly, a body. A scarlet pool slowly seeped into the sand. The gash on the victim's throat, a wolf she had never met, had clear evidence of an un-accidental killing.

The air smelled of coyote. One she knew of. The killing seemed to have caught the wolves off guard, but the coyote had learned to expect the unexpected. Meridian wished to know what had transpired here.

You all should step back. Any scent of the killer, and clue, is sure to be brushed of with your mobbing.

She boldly announces her presence, as she is cure the rocks leading up to her perch are to small for a wolf.

It was with a single firm press of his lips to her temple that he left Toula, and only after seeing that she was attended and the mazoi was stationed at her threshold.

He stalked like a lynx to the corpse of a woman whose death was announced by the shrieks of wheeling crows and muffled grief of the onlookers. He stopped short where stood Erpa-ha over the young wolf’s body. Twisted and defiled; a stain upon the new reign and affront to the gods.

“Have the body sent to the Sesh, I want a full report of her injuries. Then deliver her to the sem-priests for embalming.” His eyes did not meet Senmut. He need not speak it aloud. This could have been her.

“The mazoi shifts will be doubled until further notice. Trespassers are to be held for questioning or eliminated.” His eyes shot forward.

“This includes you, Meridian. Tell us what you know now and be granted leniency.” There was an alternative at the fangs of his mazoi. He readied @Legend with a broiling look, and should she hesitate she would meet his own resolve.

cameo!

Whispers of a body - a murder - reached the Amira deep in the chambers of Akashingo. She paced feverishly hot with worry for the safety of the girl-queen, with worry for her own safety. Would they find her here? Here, where she had no power to command the mazoi, no power to ensure the culprit be torn to shreds. No power to eradicate the fear that wormed it's way into her belly.

Though she trusted Toula somewhat, it was the dark furred man that drew the brunt of Nefari's scepticism.

Cursing under her breath, she threw herself onto her bedfurs, beckoning a fellahin as guards began swarming the halls. "Another, please," as she drank herself into an ayrag-induced slumber.

sen out!

senmut became nothing in this moment.

it was the shrinking of a man who knew his true place in the face of divinity, and when rashepses strode among them to issue commands of his own, the erpa-ha found himself divested of all nobility.

here was a man who knew himself to be pharaoh.

the thought dried his mouth. in this moment he could resist in pride the inevitable, but senmut chose swiftly.

he signalled to his people that his power was over by inclining his head to rashepses. "it shall be done, divine one."

recognition. power. the surrender of a scepter.

we'eb. sem-priest. high priest. these his titles now.

pain, breaking with the cartouche only just assembled.

Amun, humbling senmut.

servants summoned to help him carry the body into a chamber far beneath, etched in black and gleaming blue, where both tavina and priests might examine the poor torn figure of melody.

it would be discovered that the princess too, was gone.

Rashepses recognizes her, demands answers. She takes the opportunity to ridicule the wolves, for ignoring her previous warnings. To instill in them shame, for the ever preventable death of their comrade.

Do you recall the shadow coyotes I told you of?

As far as Meridian knew, they had left the area months ago. It was not them, who had committed such a crime, but she blamed them anyway.

Kick me if there's a post order

The weighing presence and vivid vision of Rashepses brought her to post. Legs readied to a lunge, tail swinging with her head hung low.

Her feet felt twitchy, twitchy, twitchy! 

Blood shed by her teeth, none in counting; fights in few, but oh, she could learn. She could see- see it now, she was antsy. Either by excitability or eating nerves, her tail continued to display itself in rapid movement, the rest of her still and pointed to the coyote like a hound. Hound, hound, hound.

One word for a trigger and a bullet set to fire.
She burned the coyote into her hungry mind, brought to famine by order and by bubbling cortisol she danced with.

“It is your account that a shadow coyote’s done this,” his voice prompted, face taking on a keen edge.

Beside him the mazoi writhed with dark excitement; a huntress readied on her mark. Rashepses remained still. She would be loosed only when bid by his command.