Lion Head Mesa Lotus

It was entirely possible that each child held their own language, and that the first hurdle of growing up was to find something shared. Her words might have fallen upon an adult's ears as nothing more than verbal chaos; but she knew she did not understand her sister, neither her words nor her apparent pleasure at being attended to.

This was something Satakhetem resisted utterly. As Neith was favored and prized, Satakhetem sank back, wanting nothing to do with the extra eyes and the fawning.

She felt her cheeks go red beneath the dark fur there. She saw how pleased her sister was, and did not understand why. When such attention drifted inevitably to the dark girl, Satakhetem would shrink and keep aside, but she stayed at a matching pace to the frolicking Neith.