Lion Head Mesa And that you'll always be alone

It would seem that he had taken far too kindly to the savage and feral ways. His days without Akashingo had been restless; yet, there was a lingering urge — a pull, tugging at him to return to the lake.

Khaba looked down upon the priest with a scornful glare, lip curled back against a single tooth. I've already done so of that woman priest. How could it be any different?

How could he even be sure Makono would forgive him for that? Would his punishment be banishment, only to send him back to where Senmut had collected him from? Part of the jodai wished for it to be so. 

When will this judgement be over and done with? I did not return to be caged in this chamber. I came back for Makono. Pharaoh or not, he no longer cared for her title. Regardless of who she was, or what others called her, she was still her. Makono. If she doesn't want me here, then I'll go back to where I was. At least there, my presence was wanted.

His stare, now colder, almost menacing, bore down upon the hem. Khaba wanted answers from the little man, as he knew Makono told him all. And the jodai wouldn't turn away, nor seal his teeth without them.