Meadowlark Prairie eighty-third

it frightened zaahira to leave akashingo vulnerable in her absence. she had instructed @Mesen-ka on what was necessary for pharaoh in her absence; even given rashepses her well wishes. the sphinx, at least, had earned her regard — things would be well. they had to be.
with her she carried herbs dipped in the wellspring and prayed over at sekhmet's altar, enough food for at least three days, and the pelt of a pronghorn she would use as a bedfur. the morning sun blazed over the mesa, which she looked back toward with one final, solemn glance.
they are closest, she says to the priest. but my hopes are the least high for them, at least in the soldier department. they are... rather soft, from what i hear.