Rosewater Oasis By the power of Ra,

for @Lakshmi

Samir’s gaze was fixed on the endless horizon, where the rolling dunes stretched like waves. The sun hung high above, scorching the golden sands, casting his dark, gilded figure into Godhood.

Behind him, the oasis shimmered—a jewel of life and power amid the barren desert, his domain.

The sharp cry of a falcon broke the silence, pulling him from his musings. His head lifted slightly, golden eyes following the black-and-gold bird as it swept low across the desert. A familiar predator wielding talons of revere.

A symbol of home.

His tail flicked once. In the distance, ascending a lone dune, was a viper he knew all too well. The heat rippled around her slender shape, but Samir needed no confirmation. He knew who approached, even before the light caught the familiar, menacing shape.

Lakshmi. His favorite cousin.

the preacherman had a memory.

---

he stepped in the slow way of the unafraid. of the oblivious (which he was not).

first he came to where the lake was narrowest, and where on the other shore stood a man black as himself - although sunlit instead of sunset.

then he tested his gums for a smile, and they cracked dry and bled.

and then he spoke (with a good grin):

'fternoon, sir! mind i take a sip?

would you like to forward date this thread?

there, lakshmi had been, one second. then, the next, gone. samir gives a vicious shake of his black crown, gold nose twitching with indignation. she had never been there to begin with. brows furrow above gilded eyes.

he had been rattled by the events of akashingo. now, he was seeing things. thankfully, he's quickly distracted by the approach of a wolf—real, this time. but unfortunately, unknown. or perhaps... fortunately?

there is a shift in his demeanor, from shaken to suave within moments. trading one mask for another with the vague flick of a scarred wrist. greetings, wanderer. a voice of melted gold and honey comes, brassy in its timbre. drink, quench your thirst. then we will converse: repayment for my hospitality.

an unnerving smile.

slight lift of his lower eyelids, as imperceptible to the other as the change in mood was to him.

he didn't comment. lowered his head, and lapped. drank in silence for a while.

the tab wasn't his to keep.

when his muzzle was drenched and water dripped down his throat in fat rivulets, the man raised his face and spoke with a smile:

now what, keeper?

his eyes, half-lidded and reflective, catch the light of ra’s brilliance as his head dips to drink alongside the other.

the pharaoh drinks deeply, water cascading down his sharp muzzle, staining his obsidian coat in dark streaks. when he rises, droplets glinting like tiny stars in his fur, his lips curve into the barest hint of a smile—a thing more serpentine than warm.

with a foreleg, he waves a paw.

you pay me in kind with your name, traveler.