Lion Head Mesa I'm just a random wolf, looking for adventure

They bickered! Of course it was the mazoi who fought with the stranger, it was in their nature to be abrasive. The word of Senmut was barely heeded and that is what piqued Harakhte's interest, and he felt inclined to insert himself once again.
You misunderstand! He called from beside the erpa-ha, and with a slight bow of his head to the esteemed Senmut, he stepped around one wolf to face the other. Make a show of it! Why not? Harakhte was known in his home as a charismatic voice, he may as well utilize it here! What better way to prove his own strengths before this audience? Most importantly, it would spare this stranger further bereavement.
You stand before the erpa-ha, who speaks with the voice of the gods — and also, that of the divine queen. It felt as if he gave lessons to a child. How did this man not understand the totem of power? Did he think it possible a nobody such as himself would be welcomed in the court of any queen, let alone the hemet-nekheb, Toula?
You must leave. Harakhte implored. The way he stared at the man now, with his hard and hawkish gaze, the stern lifting of his chin, and strengthening of his spine, implied that there would be no further discussion.
Harakhte knew it was beneath his station to man-handle someone at the border, but he would place himself alongside the two mazoi so that they were a barricade; it would be Khusobek that struck first, he presumed — or Zaaira, who now had much to prove.