Two Eyes Cenote i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre

I should have announced myself, the half-breed murmured, offering an inclination of his fair head. I can't imagine I was the company you were expecting.

Ah, Sopdet and Osiris, Machi’s voice was a velvet thread, quiet and calm, as if trying to stitch together the jagged edges of Meseba’s vexation. I suppose even the gods have their restless nights, just as we mortals do. He gave a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Do they speak to you often? he asked, though his tone held no jest, only curiosity. He sought to understand the man beside him, even if only through his relationship with the gods he served.

Why am I out here? Machi echoed softly, his gaze drifting momentarily to the sky before falling back to Meseba. There was a pause, as he considered his words carefully. Charm only went so far when the other man’s trust was already brittle, if it existed at all.

I would say the same as you, Machi replied finally his tone void of malice, however it seems your duties aren't at the forefront of your mind tonight. He shifted his weight as he settled more comfortably, quiet now as he offered the Mazoi a listening ear— one to be taken or ignored as he wished.