Lion Head Mesa those who wish me dead, yeah

some. an honest admittance, uttered like a choked whisper in the candlelit chased shadows of a confessional. not enough.

oh! but he was obsessed with Osiris!

but the unease that spurs him away from the bones, from the feather of ma'at was born of his own personal issues — always rearing their ugly heads — and the plaguing worry that he would be barred from ash paw, from the children he agreed to be father to.

how could he be father? when he was so far away?

spurred into action, a quick gasp of a breath; a decision made.

what if i went with you? what if i became full father to your children? if they could always know me and not just visits ... which i fear i will be ordered away from.