Wapun Meadow sun and moon

Hatshepsut was silent. She nodded, appreciating the care he sought to take with his transition from packwolf to leader. Hatshepsut would not have trusted him had he taken her easily into the fold; the Egyptian suspected he was not alone in his endeavours. The scarring across his face, the confidence with which he held himself, the coldness of his gilded eyes — such men were not without families. The Regent would have been surprised had he not been possessed of a mate and children.

A wan smile curved her lips. "Yes. In the interim, I will continue my travels. It seems this part of the country holds nothing for me." In Karnak, Hatshepsut would have taken this moment to dismiss the man, but here she ruled nothing, and it was his prerogative to send her upon her way.

"I am Ma'at-ka-Ra Hatshepsut," the Egyptian lilted in the singsong cadence of her native tongue. "But Hatshepsut will suffice," the desert creature added with a mischievous spark alighting her lazuli gaze.

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