Two Eyes Cenote baby you belong

She was lost. She hadn't known this until almost two weeks before, when she'd found herself in the lowlands — a place she hadn't known existed, and which he had most assuredly never been. Her heart stung with helplessness and her paws from the stinging the dry, hard-packed earth. The wind had kicked up the night before and her nose was cracked and running, and caked with peppery dirt at her nares. Long lashes had saved her eyes, at least, but in short — Mya was a mess.

She rushed toward the scent of other wolves, having not yet learned to be distrustful. She could only picture her family, and how happy they would be to see her at their borders.

Her parched throat croaked at first, but then Mya managed a reedy howl to announce her presence: Is anybody home?

the crocodile had not yet sought inji, not since his shouting with zaahira nor his vulnerability with eset.

he had taken to the desert to harden himself once more, and it was a figure of sunbaked clay and cold icewater eyes that confronted the flighted young wolf at their gates.

"this is muat-riya, land of pharaoh isetnofret toula." she seemed desperate, windblown, her voice thin with dry sand. "state why you have come."

Mya blinked as if she had sand in her eyes when the man appeared. His ruddy pelt made him look like a mirage to her tired eyes, and then like a monster as he came into focus. But he smelled like water, and Mya convinced herself that he would not hurt a young woman for no reason. Who would?

"I — "

She fell into a brief coughing fit. Not sickness, but a parched and itchy throat.

"I'm lost," she said to the strange man. "My name is Mya, and I'm looking for my family. But I don't know where I am."

Should she square her shoulders or shrink? Would it be better to look competent, or pathetic? Mya's heart sank as she realized she did not have much of a choice. She felt too downtrodden to do much but stand there.

the girl's pathetic appearance was salvaged by her stunningly pretty eyes, now mussed with sand-tears.

the crocodile grunted after a moment and stood aside, jerking his head as if to order mya deeper into the gleaming blue rooms. "come in. wash your face. i doubt your family is here but we will see the hebsut. i am khusobek."

The girl straightened slightly at the word wash. Wash meant water, and Mya had never been so thirsty in her life. She trotted after the man — Khusobek — with renewed vigor, although she still felt weak as a kitten. There was no room in her mind to wonder what a hesbut was, nor whether it was a good idea to be following a stranger into a strange land.

The truth was that she doubted her family was here, too. At this point, she wanted any kind of family, even if it was not her own. She had never been so sad around other wolves. The life of a loner was not for her.

She slowed as they left the sky behind, and the air grew almost damp enough to quench. It was cool inside, almost jarringly so against her tender paw pads. She moved as if in a trance until they came to the first water. There, Mya pounced as if the stream might escape from her to drink from the wellspring, and to dip her paws into the cool silk. She forgot her audience until her stomach cramped in revolt. A tiny whine escaped her gritted teeth, and she paced herself enough to dampen her face and wipe her eyes, the back of her neck slowly heating as she became more self aware.

"Sorry," she said, her voice still a croak, but her throat no longer feeling like sandpaper.

She turned back to Khusobek when she was sure the stinging in her eyes could be passed off as an effect of her scrubbing.

"My name's Mya."

She was ready to follow, now. It seemed there was no shortage of water in this place.

she had said this already. khusobek did not introduce himself a second time, but moved off when mya seemed ready, taking a corridor to the right as he searched for eset.

"drink more slowly next time. how long have you been lost? what is the name of your family?" khusobek asked gruffly, slowing himself to whatever speed would suit the stranger best.

"Yes, sir," she agreed, feeling chastened. An invading dizziness warred with the sharp, clear thought that she had made a fool of herself. It was hard to feel anything but desperately relieved and increasingly lethargic.

"My papa's name is Ethan, and I have a brother named Ike," she told the man. "It's been over a year since I last saw them — but I've been lost for about eight months. I tried to go back to them. I must've taken a wrong turn."

Now that she had water to spare, her eyes truly began to prickle. Pale, green disks glimmered wetly in the low lighting. She waited until the tightness of her throat to ease, gazing around at the strange place she felt she must have been teleported into. She could not remember entering this place with clarity.

"Kvarsheim," she recalled. "That's where I saw them last. A pack called Kvarsheim."

he did not know any of these names, save for kvarsheim. they had been on the guestlist, though khusobek did not recall meeting the emissaries himself.

was she weeping? the crocodile swept the stranger with a glance.

"i am taking you to @Eset. hebsut of muat-riya, right hand to pharaoh. she will know these things. then you may rest."

he was silent thereafter, deeply curious behind his veneer of stoic guardedness.

apologies for holding this up~

The hebsut was proceeding down the hall to Pharaoh’s chambers with fresh clippings of jasmine when she took note of the mazoi and the new woman trailing him.

She quickly rests the branches and steps forward to attend them. The traveller looks tired and burdened, likely in need of a doctor and some rest.

“Welcome to Muat-riya,” Eset greets briskly with a dip of nose and lifts her eyes between them, "I am Eset, hebsut to Pharaoh Toula. May I help you?"

No worries at all! Please go at whatever pace is comfy :)

It was only when she met this new wolf that Mya began to recognize Khusobek's stuff guardedness as something else — formality. Poise, even, on the one they called hebsut. Mya didn't know any manners aside from saying please and thank you, and that it was rude to push Ike or sass their father. Had she been sassing Khusobek?

What a strange name! Both of them, really. And this was a strange place, like something out of a dream.

Mya lifted her gaze to the ceiling as if Eset had asked her to do so. Mya did not actually know the word ceiling. She saw instead a second, stone-hewn sky, almost close enough to touch. Like a cave, but different, too.

"What's a hebsut?" she asked. Her voice sounded as if it was very far away. Dark ears swiveled uneasily as it bounced off the walls and whispered back to her. Hebsut.

She tucked her chin down with great effort to gaze moon-faced at the woman.

khu out! <3

"hebsut is the highest rank below nobility and royalty. but eset has been doorkeeper for our pharaoh a long while. there is no equal to her in muat-riya."

his voice commanded respect for the velveteen darkness of the immaculate woman. "hebsut. this is mya. she is lost. her brother is named ethan and his father is named ike. the last time she saw them was in kvarsheim."

"i leave her to you." a nod and the red guardian was moving off, keeping his eyes from their linger on eset.

His adulations light up her pulse where it beats loudly in her ears and the dark velvet along her cheekbones is all that conceals a spreading flush. Her time spent between the two kingdoms had not smothered the part of Eset that clung to the subservience of a serf. There is still the effort to dress in dignity.

She watches Khusobek with a look that spans forbiddingly over his face, freed from the custody of his flame only when he has moved away and the lean woman with her pale mask and chestnut coat centers in view. Eset observes as she looks around the palace, noting a quality in her evergreen eyes that appears more curious than upset.

“Kvarsheim, I have heard of this place. I am afraid you are far from home, Lady Mya,” the hebsut explains regretfully, “I will arrange a mazoi to escort you back to your family. Please, in the meantime, rest yourself.”

She leads the woman towards one of the crystalline pools where she can drink and bathe if desired, and asks a passing fellahin to bring meat and ripe fruits from their stores.

“How is it you’ve come to the desert?” She wonders, gesturing gently towards the turquoise waters.

The girl shifted uneasily as Khusobek departed; she didn't know the man, but it had felt nice to stand in someone's shadow for a little while. The wild urge to ask him to stay, or else to turn and follow took hold of her. She twitched again, her head half-turning, and then that word — Kvarsheim — froze her in place.

Eset knew where that was. Eset was hebsut. Mya had absorbed very little of the word's explanation, but she understood that she was meant to be impressed by the coywolf. If she hadn't been before, she certainly was now, when Eset claimed to know of the far-off place that had once been home. Which meant it was startling to be called Lady Mya, which had a fairy-tale ring to it that the girl liked right away.

"Thank you, um — Miss Eset? Ma'am." Was that more or less respectful than "lady"? And was she meant to show deference? Khusobek had made it seem like it. What was more — she couldn't imagine looking at Eset with anything less than worship, right then.

She followed closely, and when shown to the waters, sank gratefully into their depths. Dust swirled away from her, visible only for the foggy shadows it cast through the phosphorescent light.

"I just wanted to see our old den," she said dully, lifting her gaze from the water to study Eset's face. "I left them, and I meant to come back right away. But things kept pushing me away. A mountain lion first, and then a fire, and when the season changed, a river I couldn't cross back over. I thought I was finally on my way back — but now nothing is familiar. I feel I've lost all sense of direction."

But Eset had not.

"Will you really ask someone to show me the way?" she asked in a small voice.

“Yes,” the answer is quickly drawn from her lips when Mya looks to her so earnestly. This was within the hebsut’s capabilities, that much she could offer to the woman who had known so much strife in the time that she’d left her eastern pack. In a way she felt it was for Moss too, the gentle Kvarsheim wolf who had elected to spend his evening with her during Toula’s coronation.

“I am sorry for all you’ve gone through. You are welcome to stay in Muat-riya for as long as you need while you recover. We have ample room, and our doctor, Tavina, will treat you for any wounds.” Her eyes skim the shewolf for injuries, new or old.

When the fellahin delivers the repast, Eset arranges it neatly on the banks for Mya; the neck of a goose and two fresh figs. “Please, help yourself.”

The dizzyness returned, just briefly. Eset's sleek form swam while powerful relief swept through her. Tears were not yet available to her, but her throat felt tight and parched once more. She wanted to weep, loudly, as she had when she was only small, and it was just Ike and Father there to soothe her. They had always managed it — but she was larger than her father, now. And he was nowhere to be found.

"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes burning anew. "If could stay long enough — it's just my paws — " She lifted one from the water to show off the cracks, which had previously been clogged with dirt and sand. Now they oozed blood and serous fluid. It soured the scent of the room until food was brought by another fleeting figure.

Mya emerged from the water as if drawn by a magnet. Her mouth watered at the sight, even though it had not been nearly so long since her last meal as it had been since her last drink of cool, clean water.

"This feels like a dream," she said, stopping just short of the offering. Like one I've had before. A choked little sound escaped her. She trembled, exhausted and overcome. "I'm just afraid I'll wake up."

The woman’s bloodied paw glimmers in the rays of filtered light, the alarming sight of which spurs Eset quickly to her own feet. The cuts look deep and painful but perhaps an injury their Sesh will have seen before in those who had crossed the flatlands to Akashingo.

“You will be all right, Mya, please rest here,” she urges and hurries down one of the adjoining halls toward the medical room, where she anticipates she will find @Tavina.

the draught was bitter. each year for a week, at the very start of any — changes — tavina mixed a certain blend of herbs for herself and quelled the sensation.

she was just grimacing at its taste when eset entered the room, accompanied by a sense of urgency. rote; unquestioning; tavina grabbed a pair of soft cloths and accompanied the hebsut with a confident tread for the emergency.

Eset moved with such certainty! Mya had not yet processed her instruction when the woman disappeared, and she blinked after her dark figure for a long moment, her meal forgotten before her. With only her own breaths to measure the time, she felt she drifted in darkness for a long while — but she still had time to remember her meal and finish a few more bites before Eset returned with company.

"Hello," she said, drawing herself up to attention. This new woman's bearing made Mya painfully away of her unkempt fur and quivering ears. She was surely someone just as important as Eset. She couldn't remember why Eset had gone to fetch her — Tavina might notice the shine feverish delirium in her eyes.

It was exhaustion more than anything, and her dehydrated body working overtime to process the fuel she'd put into her body. But her paws were in poor condition, and they burned against the cool stone in a way Mya had grown too accustomed to to take any real notice of.

She directs Tavina to where Mya now stands near the edge of the pools, explaining swiftly, “it’s her paws,” but taking notice too of the blearly tint to her eyes.

She steps off to one side and remains close, ready to assist the doctor if she was needed and making careful glances towards the hazel woman’s distant bearing with worry. There seemed to be something more going on.

powerplay, lmk if not cool!

"hm." tavina set down her things, grasping at the girl's paw between her own, then the other. yes, infected, yes, and the glossy sheen of deep fever on the child. 

she did not wait for an answer, only steered the stranger into her examination room, letting eset carry her cloths.  "lie up here," the sesh instructed, motioning to the slab of stone covered with white furs. "we need to get you off your feet."

first, soft skins to blot dirt and water from her injured paws. mya was the girl's name, she learned. cactus-water for a rinse, softening the ugly half-baked scabs that had formed. she set one poppyseed to steep in a draught of berrywine brought from akashingo and showed eset how to mix a salve of pigweed and honey.

each of mya's paws were coated in the astringent, sticky dressing, then wrapped loosely with the soft inner bark of the trees which grew around muat-riya.

"you've got a nasty fever and infection running into your ankles," indicated by angry streaks of pink. "you'll need to stay off your paws for several days. drink," tavina ordered firmly, eset holding a leaf of the painkilling drink to mya's mouth. "this will take away any pain and put you right to sleep." 

an offering of fresh water followed. "you won't be alone very often. and you won't stay here after tomorrow. we'll put you in your own room, i think," tavina said, though her eyes went to eset as she said this.

They brought her elsewhere, deeper into the labyrinth. She did not limp so much as she wobbled on the way, although her paws, now that they had been rinse and were slowly drying, began to pain her anew. She climbed awkwardly onto the slab and stood there with her claws digging into the stone as if the floor were a thousand feet away — but she laid down, haltingly, and did her best to hold still while her paws were examined. She could not help the knee jerk reaction and yanked her paws away at the first touch, but then she would remember herself, and murmur and apology, and only flinch a little the next time.

Tears leaked down her face to pool where her cheek was pressed against the stone. She did not notice them. She stared moon-eyed into Tavina's face, and then into the middle distance when her hind paws were seen to. Before long, each touch was painful, but so painfully tender, too.

"Thank you," she said when she heard she would not have to be alone. "Thank you, Miss Tavina, Eset, ma'am — " she babbled another word or two, and then, abruptly, was weeping once more. She would be consoled only in sleep, and come morning, would remember nothing past reaching the room in which she awoke.

She watches Tavina work, disquiet allayed in the mastery of her craft and the verdict of health that would follow once rest and care had healed Mya’s wounds. A time would come when the woman would be escorted back into the green lands beyond the deserts, but for now she was in the doctor’s safe keeping.

The hebsut’s stillness punctuates with a nod, “Thank you,” her eyes rove the Sesh’s face before finding the green eyes set within the new wolf’s pale mask,  “I will prepare your quarters and be back to check on you. Rest well, Mya.”

She turns and follows the tunnel east. She had a place in mind for the woman, it was a modest chamber near enough to the sesh's medical room, but with a casement along the ceiling that opened up into the sky. It would fill the space with soft natural light while their guest mends.