Sheepeater Cliff eighty-ninth

i feel similarly.
a life, unfinished; the pharaoh he spoke of had left behind his children, one of which being her beloved toula. she remembers sharply the pain in her eyes that very day she'd led her newest mazoi to the temple of Osiris.
she remembers selena.
i have accomplished so much in my life. i have all that i could ever want; power, respect, titles, men at my beck and call. and yet i feel also that-- sometimes, there is something missing, her nostrils flare, emotion pouring from the sigh which left them. i often ask myself what my afterlife will look like. if i will have anyone to wait for me. friends, a wife, maybe. children.
was it enough?
was it ever?
she drags a slender paw around in the grass, feeling the sharpness of the blades in between her toes; her gaze drops to the floor. i asked eset to marry me, once. before she became hebsut. and she-- well. we have not really connected since.