Two Eyes Cenote barley & brawn

family/pack acitivity! no posting order, can be a couple of rounds! @Eset @Meseba @Tavina @Machiavelli @Kheti, NPCs assumed present, (@Medusa for ref tho im assuming she is still in recovery) gifts welcome!

to commemorate @Safiya's ascension to mazoi, her father held a small feast for the inhabitants of muat-riya.

a ram from the steppes had been killed and dressed, then transported to muat-riya. a summer vintage was too nestled among the dried grass.

khusobek was no decorator; it was her mother's touches which transformed the small ante-room into a dazzle of purple flowers and profusions of golden wheat. tiye had even strewn the floor with tiny pink petals. kheti and kiyya

he called for them to gather, and gestured to Safiya. "my daughter has joined the ranks of mazoi," said the crocodile when the room had quieted. his eyes held a softness of pride that he had not yet worn. "muat-riya is safer for her watchful eyes, thoughtful questions, fierce bravery, and kind heart. i celebrate you, safiya."

Safiya had watched as her father worked hard to make a feast for her ascension to Mazoi. A welling of fierce pride colored her innards. And she was excited to share her good news with those she cared for. Even Tiye got into the decorating spirit even if she didn't quite understand Safiya's drive.

A small smile and a gentle bow of her head to her father. 

Thank you.

ik he's not off NPC yet but I couldn't resist

Kheti was no stranger to lavish feasts and celebration, though this would be the first he felt any real connection to. His sister would graduate today and for a while the fellahin busied himself with occupying those who attended if only to distract from a strange, nagging feeling.

For where pride should swell his chest, the boy felt also an ugly twinge of jealousy. Safiya - shining Safiya - she had always been the favourite. During the long march, it was she that would take the vanguard. No matter how hard Kheti worked it always felt as though his paws would sink a little deeper into the sand.

Spying Safiya through the crowd, he caught her eye and offered an encouraging wag of his tail. That should have been him up there.

He fell into place besides Kiyya as father's voice summoned the crowd, smile saccharine though the choke in his voice betrayed his confliction. "You've done well, sister!"

Cameo <3
Machi is not physically here as per Eset's orders

The palace had been a flurry of activity today, though it took some time before the dog understood the reason behind the commotion. The echo of hurried footsteps and the murmur of hushed conversations reverberated through the stone corridors and sun-dappled chambers, each sound eventually drifting toward the secluded cave where Machiavelli lay in wait.

He tilted his head, ears twitching as he deciphered the sounds. There was something in the air, a blend of excitement and anticipation, and as the day wore on, the reason became clear. His small friend had achieved her goal—she was now a Mazoi. Machi felt a swell of pride for her, a warmth that spread through him like sunlight filtering through the cracks in the cave’s roof. Her hard work had borne fruit, and she had earned her place among the ranks of the palace guards.

Yet, as much as he celebrated her success, there was a pang of disappointment that tugged at him. He had hoped to be there, to congratulate her in person, to share in her triumph with a word of encouragement or a sly remark. Still, he could not let the occasion pass without some token of his congratulations.

The first was a small container of crushed ruby pigment—a playful reminder of their last conversation, where she had discussed the frivolity of such things. He hoped it would bring a smile to her lips, a small amusement to lighten her newfound responsibilities.

But the second gift was more thoughtful. He had carefully gathered a small bouquet of chamomile, lavender, and sprigs of a minty-looking plant with a strong lemon scent and tiny white buds. He tied them together with a strip of hide, adding a final touch with the feathers of a hawk and a vulture, symbols of strength and vigilance. The bouquet was simple, yet it carried a deeper meaning—one of calm and protection, a wish for her well-being in the days to come.

These he placed outside the entrance to her chamber once the palace has settled into sleep, a gesture that would greet her when she awoke. He hoped that when she found them, she would understand that he was there celebrating with her in spirit.

During a quiet lull in conversation, the hebsut gently pulls Muat-riya’s young mazoi aside, presenting to her three ivory ostrich feathers in pristine condition. Their touch is soft and their plumage elegant, but the coy is close enough to the child to know Safiya would not be taken by their beauty alone.

“The Goddess Ma’at preserves balance and justice. She is the ostrich deity, the harmony of the Gods, embodying righteousness and protecting our most foundational laws. She is fair and brave, Safiya. I see much of her in you,” the hebsut’s eyes smile softly upon the girl. How much she had accomplished in her young months! 

“These plumes are a representation of her great blessings upon you. May you continue to embody her wisdom as you grow,” she inclines her head, eyelids closing for a reverent moment.

When they open, her amber gaze is fast and warm upon Safiya. She leans in to kiss her cheek and whisper, “I am so very proud of you.”

her gift was as practical as tavina herself: a medical kit.

inside a gourd she had placed oakleaf curls of sixteen various herbs: comfrey, chamomile, cohosh, rhubarb, goldenrod, lavender, spearmint, wintermint, honeymint, dried juniper berries, powdered yam, willowbark, vervain, and two tiny bits of garlic.

a rundown of each herb was given, basic instructions, and for the garlic; "this will induce vomiting. only use if you think poison has been involved."

but in all the studious words she knew she spoke too much; at last she sighed and hugged safiya. "i am very proud of you. continue to come to classes when you are able. i'm certain one day you'll have something to teach us all."

Medusa was bad at gifts. And worse at kids. It was why she’d never have…

Never mind. Her father took care of the big gift from their family but she brought with her a pretty flower, robbed of all its toxic properties. She brought it before the girl and said; it is small and it is pretty, but it is not inconsequential. The stem, which I have removed, will make the consumer sleep like the dead for a week, perhaps more. It is useful, medicinally, and for religious ceremony… but I imagine a Mazoi might win the day with the aid of this, the day? Maybe more, maybe the war! 

She should’ve been a tactician. 

Wake them sooner by crushing the part I have gifted and placing it beneath their nose. 

Medusa withdrew, smiling thinly before moving toward the girls father. He had the look of a Mazoi but she wasn’t sure. Following in your footsteps? she asked, carefully avoiding Tavina’s gaze but for one brief, grateful little glance.

shes not off npc but i had to make at least a cameo.

fiya glowed brighter than the sun, and littlest sister sits within her shadow. tiye's lips felt too heavy to even pretend to smile. instead, at the soonest opportunity, the girl slipped through the shadows to escape.

what honor is there in being a meatshield? but thats not why tiye stirred. that's not why she storms through the hallways. the same thoughts that whisper in her brother's ear tear apart her lips into an ugly sob and twists every fiber of her body once tiye had reached a chamber.

it should've been me.

Also a cameo

Kiyya had not grown out of his routine of waking-before-dawn, or trying to mimic what he saw of the mazoi.

When it came time to celebrate his little sister he was exuberant in the infectious, over-the-top way of any child with a special interest; he was perhaps a little jealous of the festivities, but soon so charmed by the exchange of gifts and pleasantries that everything else fell away.

Muat-riya would have another mazoi, and it would be his sister! He was overjoyed, truly, and bounced from person to person, enjoying the celebration.