Mount Apikuni ba, ka, and khou

The wolves he had met here almost drove from him the bloodlust of a thousand years, though moments such as tonight rocked to his very core. The white wraith slipped between trees and rocks, counting down the minutes until he could slip out of the shadows and into the silver moonlight. He had scented her briefly before, but had not been able to find her. Perhaps she had alluded him, or had other things on her mind; whatever the excuse, Lestat would think little of it after tonight.

Her call issued forth as the sun's last rays melted into the earth, and Lestat smiled his wicked grin as he galloped toward her. The Egyptian had known of him, had known of Akasha and Enkil, had known what Akasha had done to Enkil for him; it was strange to think that his secrets had been known by a stranger before he even knew her name, though part of it thrilled him, too. He was famous in her land, famous for something devious and threatening and altogether as anti-de Lioncourt as he could possibly get.

Perhaps that was why she had kept him around.

When he arrived, she was seated atop a stone tablet, her slim forelegs crossed before her. She looked every bit the queen she was. Lestat slowed his pace, taking a moment to drink in the sight of her, wishing he could stay like this forever: watching her from afar. But it was not to be. She had called for him.

The white wraith picked his way carefully to her level, climbing the stone pillars at odd angles to reach her. She was beautiful, Hatshepsut. The Queen of Karnak. Finally, he reached her side, but instead of any normal conversation or greeting, he simply bowed himself in front of her and whispered, "Beloved, I have come."