Lion Head Mesa everybody loves you, baby [m]

he is born!

what of the girl? the khet is prepared —

the voice of Anqet calls, let me have her!

and Hathor in competition, she is mine! mine, or to shuyet!

the darkness encroached, it clustered around the shape of her ka until it felt like it would be snuffed out; and in that last moment, the immaterial flashed with a sharp blue, like an eye made of the summer sky.

the goddesses together gasped, and it was like the stars moaned, as outside of everything, a storm-cloud came to sweep over the stars.

then, there was light.

---

the light was red. it was all she could see, all she could sense. red.

the caul was pulled free of her long face, so sharp and so angular that the babe could be mistaken for a fawn. black, though, and fanged. and as she was free she gave a cry that twinned a chorus with her brother, as he warred against the living world.

she kicked with long legs. her punches touched only the night sky, her skin only felt the cold of the air as it cooled the new, wet vessel that had been brought forth. the cries slowed as she became numb, bordering on the land of shadow — finding solace among the children of a goddess.

and there, nesting upon the pharaoh and among her siblings, the girl's cries became a goading laughter.