Wheeling Gull Isle racharra sees a ghost

@Judah , also do not worry about making ur reply as ungodly long as this i just needed to paint a picture LOL. 

some details are kept vague but a lot of this references eightieth. assume there is a bit of a time jump to account for travel time.

scornful, spiteful and stupid. the ogre-blooded girl travels alone.

it was a detour from the initial path to moontide, forced so by the increasingly turmoiled nebet. the meeting initially went better than she expected, but something itched at her that night when she went to sleep. every word, every gesture is vividly recreated piece by piece even when the court has long since been empty. racharra then took those pieces, and chose which ones struck her hardest. it's only in retrospect when the tears and mistakes of a tapestry could be seen, once she sat underneath the cool moonlight rather than the burning sun. something shifted again in the girl. each night since then, dark fur stirred and prayed. all until one morning before another lecture, the nebet just couldn't take it anymore.
she greeted Ra and apologized at the same time that early morning. she brought along with her only what she would need, and ran — ignoring or forgetting the Pharoah's order; she couldn't quite pick which one would be worse. she had the foresight to at least warn a fellahin of her departure to moontide, but nothing more. sneaking out meant a headstart before a party would be sent to follow the rebelling lady's footsteps in desert sand. but right now, she only wished to be alone and a camp of mazoi and fellahin would be too much noise. what's the worst that could happen?
from the forest, the dark woman slinks out into the clearing and steps on soft beach sand again. punishment is inevitable, but it's for a different racharra to deal with. the sound of the tide's dance fills her ears as the beach sand embraces her paws so soon again. for now it is Tefnut who keeps her company. keeps her peace. She always has, as goddess of water.
adventuring beyond the red palace allows a freedom for racharra to explore the beauty that is the wilds. the treacherous desert, who buries those in its sand if they cannot survive its holy heat, was hard to even cross let alone wander. yet racharra made a beeline through the desert, only stopping along the creek (but never the lake) for thirst. yet freedom like this has its price.
this pilgrimage is different to the last. she set out willingly, but forced so soon to return to the coastal moon village by the order of marriage. the girl, who only innocently considered marriage, is now the one whose freedom of choice is a test for those of ladies and lords after her who are unfortunate enough to cross paths with akashingo. if she fails, she'll fail them too.
the pride that burned in toula and senmut's eyes doused out by that of the cold disapproval of the consort. if he were Pharoah, racharra would never have even been able to step foot within the halls to plead for her fate. she would've been getting ready for the misery that would be her wedding to the man who paid the best price for her hand. everyone had a plan for racharra except for herself: the one who would have to live out whatever whims occured to those above her.
did miho know of this? is that why she disappeared? why couldn't miho have at least warned racharra of the future. she didn't have to take racharra along; just something — anything! — to warn her would've helped racharra prepare. instead, it falls on the lake cub like an anvil and her sister drifts to greener pastures than the red sand palace.
..i thought you'd always be there for me.. her message is carried into the wind and the nebet waits for a response, to be proven right. wherever her sister was, racharra wished her well and in the same breath damned her for leaving.
pressure threatens to burst through her skull if she continues to think about the meeting, and a breath trembles forth. she closes her eyes, and prays an apology to most of akashingo for thinking such ill will of them. it was only few who deserved her ire. it wasn't fair to them, but racharra's starting to learn that many things aren't.

marigold eyes flutter open to something pleasant for once: dusk, the best time of day for how Ra kissed the land so that it may turn pink as he says his farewells for now, is fast-approaching. like always, orange blends with pink and purple as the night is gently introduced. 
racharra's focus doesn't lie on it for once but on the isle she finds she stands across from. she'd seen it before. grand and inviting now so close to it, yet racharra remains at the shores. the waters beckon for her, but she'd never learned to swim. so with the remaining light left, she scours until she sets upon a bridge. it's faint, and the tides have started to protest the sun's departure, but she takes it anyways. each step ever-so careful but the nebet fixates on reaching the isle. she'd always seen land surround water, but never water embracing land as much as it did this little chunk of it. the isle itself reminds her of an oasis akashingo would camp at in between their frequent journeys. the great palms, the refreshing water that soaks her skin, it's all the same.
a wave attempts to knock at her leg, but the nebet crosses the bridge with ease. with only time nipping at her heels racharra explores the island. after a shake of her dark pelt, of course.
the salt of the ocean clings to skin like fleas, but she has made it. the sand and grass is even softer than the mainland's coast. rubbing against the palm tree bark satiates the nagging sea salt. and there's even fermented fruit just waiting to be drank! but she resists. (if she was found drunk and stranded, she'd be dragged and chained within the palace's prison for the foolishness of it alone). but a presence lingers on the island: someone is watching her. there's faint motes of someone having visited, it wasn't just her who had tumbled into this isle.
but who? spirits? a mazoi sent to retrieve her? the deeper she enters the land, the more it tells of its story: the remaining vestiges of its previous owners. the marks are faint since Thoth's time takes all, but present enough for the girl to linger on as a path stretches along and guides its vistors through, all up until a mount. a mass of lavender stretches outwards atop the plateau, dancing with each breeze. excusing the flowers aside, however, leads the wandering nebet to a different presence. a mound of dirt, and the purple flowers carry a different meaning. en masse their heads bob with each sob and prayer for the pile. it's a grave; just the length of herself, give or take. racharra joins them with a quick prayer and bow to the one that now sleeps surrounded by lavender.
the burial is the only other presence she can feel, besides the wafts of wolf that brushes against the nebet's nose. Anubis sits besides her and tells of the dead man's tragedy through the howling wind, but it's lost on mortal ears.
a sense that something else is with her refuses to leave like an opportunistic fly. flitting, buzzing, and most of all distracting. it tears her away from the grave (though she might've just been looking for a reason) and looks for the perpetrator. dark body shoots upright and firm while its head whips around frantically, the nebet that barely controls it almost shouts a command for the onlooker to show themselves before she comes to a terrible, dreadful realization: she must leave.

after all of the touring, she'd forgotten that Thoth includes her in his time, and only now does she realize that the pink sky has deepened to a purple. the sun stares her down at the horizon, and tells her she must hurry as moonlight is determined to replace it.
she runs, her own strength finally returning as blood pumps to carry her legs. she's left to halt at the shoreline as the bridge once taken has now disappeared. 
where is it? where is it! she squints, pained as she ducks low to the water to find it before deciding to rely on only touch. her front paws meet the familiar mound and it's only then that racharra realizes that water is as treacherous as red sands. the waves, who at first perhaps only nudged at racharra, now had full intent to keep her on their isle. waves slam into her legs, forcing her muscles to tense to withstand their rage. and yet she, carefully, pushes forward, trying to reason with the waters. besides, there would be far more to deal with if she takes too long to reach moontide. gods forbid someone was sent out to supervise her only to not find her in the village. word would send out she'd betrayed akashingo, and she would be exiled and all those that come after her punished for her own mistake.

she looks back to find the sun giving its last light for her, and quickly the land is shrouded in darkness while the lake girl is stuck fighting against rising, angry waters. why must Tefnut be angry at her now? did She think racharra was running away from her duties? whatever the goddess thinks, she's wrong, but that doesn't stop the waves from giving up their battery on the girl.