Lion Head Mesa crook & flail

a crocodilisk in a silent pool.

now the ripples flickered against his scales.

zaahira spoke of Osiris. yes. he could see that she was learning, turning into the bosom of The Death God as one did when their pain was too great.

khusobek wondered if anguish was the word for his own sensation, or if in its consumption of him it had become something else.

"i am a gift to the queen of akashingo from her royal aunt, pharaoh hatshepsuun." a play upon the flare of his nostrils. 

set. tooth flashing in the depths of water. zaahira struggled and yet she kept herself closed. khusobek might have looked away had she gone into the catacombs herself.