Two Eyes Cenote Ikaheka

Relief, legible in the air and in the subsiding roll of the hebsut’s shoulders. Her eyes cannot help but hold curiously and long upon the young woman's stoicism. It is the fellahin who are subject to experimentation as a final line of defense between Pharaoh and her offenders. The coy had truthfully anticipated a lash-back, not this quick acquiescence.

But Eset made no move to question it now.

“I will come to you tonight,” she whispers to the hemet with a softening nod and falls away into shadow.

…

It was beneath the quiet fall of night that she returned, girded in satchels of water, herbs and small bundles of assorted other accoutrement. Swiftly she set to work, softening the hemet’s stone flooring with prey-pelts and organizing stacks of flora and medicinal herbs to temper possible side effects. Heaping amounts of fresh water was provided, as were sticks to gnaw in the advent of pain. They did not know what to expect, so she prepared for a bit of everything.

Medusa is instructed to sit and take in plenty of fresh water, to alleviate herself before-hand. They must remain quiet. Eset was anticipating impugnation from the doctor, but not until after the effects were documented.

The potent substance sat untouched in it’s wrappings beneath the hebsut’s paw. There was a long moment of hesitation where guilt settled like a knot in the core of her belly. Even if she cast doubt on the pale woman's character, this was not a risk she should have asked of any other but herself. Eset's worried eyes reach across the room to the hemet, desperate now to glean the truths in her mind and volleying a tight reluctance to go through with it all.

“I have asked, but I will not force this upon you, Medusa. There are so many risks,” her voice falls, glancing sidelong at the preparations, then slowly up once more. 

“Are you certain you will do this?”