Lion Head Mesa Times being what they are

Her Goddess is with her as they climb: the ascension into the Field of Reeds.

There is so much she wants to tell her! That every night she has prayed in her vagrant dwellings for this moment of deliverance. That never once has faith wavered. That she knew one day she’d come!

“You’ve come,” she mouths.

Too dry to speak or weep so she floats along mesmerized, scarcely aware of any others in the room though later she will recall: the guards and serfs and a woman who contorts her body into a lay.

She reaches a quivering paw to the Goddess Hathor.