Sheepeater Cliff eighty-ninth

for a long while, zaahira says nothing, caught up in her own train of thought. a soft breeze weaves between the pines.
jodai. the term still, at times, felt foreign to her ears, as if it was not she who was being spoken to. you make me sound so important, she exhales through her nose, the ghost of a laugh. i am beginning to feel as though that title only means something to those from our palace. speaking to outsiders is like speaking to a wall.
but now she was faced with a task — she was to decide? she decides that for the moment she will not answer, instead focusing on the introspection which seemed to softly croon from beneath the gold-plated exterior of the priest.
do you ever fear it? she asks him. entering Duat. the weighing of your heart.