Lion Head Mesa i wanna take the hand inside you

Weeks had passed since Inji became one with the palace. She had begun to settle in, learn the passages of the halls and their intricacies — she found herself often accompanying the Queen, studying the members and their placements, their routines and what they enjoyed. A few she had met with alone — the unlucky fellahin Tuna, and the neb known as Naberius. However, there were many more to attend to.
Today, she is alone. The mazoi barracks are where she has business today, straightening bedfurs and sweeping the halls. She hums to herself absentmindedly with a pelt slung around her shoulders for ease of carrying, and she is light on her feet as she goes from chamber to chamber, poking her head around in search of whoever may linger.