Two Eyes Cenote levitate

Pressed along the foothills of the palace are herbs that seem to grow nowhere else. They are so rare, she wonders if even Tavina has names for them. The coygirl scents them in their beds, breathing spring seedlings into the air. Small, orange-brown blooms and tubers sharp to the tongue are gingerly uprooted and stored in a pack at her feet. The findings would be presented to the sesh- save a handful of blooms she intended to cultivate.

A sudden presence on the horizon rouses her from her work. Over a modest patch of dittany, an image of wolf forms; narrow and alabaster, as if cast in the sun’s illusions. Eset straightens in wait but does not chance shifting focus to rid the earth from her pelt.

“Welcome,” a greeting is delivered in even tones once the traveler is within earshot. “You have reached Muat-riya, second palace to the Pharaoh Muat-riya Isetnofret,” they are informed with a bow, but there is clear wariness in the amber hue of the hebsut's eyes as she watches the woman.

“How may I assist you?”