Lion Head Mesa yesterday i woke up sucking a lemon

each moment seemed to pass slowly for athamas. in the seconds that khaemwaset bore his gaze into the yearling, his stomach seemed to continuously drop, as if he was on a cart tipping off the edge of a tall, steep drop on a rollercoaster. when the boy in front of him finally spoke at all, it was a relief to his nerves.

khaemwaset made mention of this kingdom employing soldiers- it was not a fact that excited athamas, admittedly. he felt that he had had enough of sparring in his childhood already, raised by his mother for a future battle that would likely never come to be. he had the skills, and the practice, but he had no love for spilling blood, and he had not sparred at all since he had last seen mira a couple months prior.

and yet, the prince’s words were true: what else can you do? athamas could turn away to search for a peaceful group that he may never find. he could go someplace else and find himself tied up with wolves far more cruel. or… or he could stay here, walk with this boy who offers him a meal and a place to sleep, and hope that the kingdom of akashingo was not one that needed to use their soldiers too often.

o-oh, thank you so much for your kindness, he stuttered out, wishing there was some gesture he could make to better demonstrate his respect. 

athamas swallowed a lump in his throat as he moved to follow khaem’s lead. he watched with masked awe at how the boy waved off the other canines with a languid flick of his paw. his power here was clear- it both excited and intimidated him. 

athamas’ ears perk with surprise when the boy asks a question of himself. ostrega is my bloodline. i… he hesitated to continue, unsure of himself, and so as he did so his black ears flattened humbly against his skull. my mother used to tell me that my family used to be important- that my mother’s mother was a feared ruler of a kingdom on a huge mountain. he feels awkward sharing this- there was clearly no power left in this name, considering athamas himself was a lone wanderer with no ties. he also wasn’t quite sure he fully trusted his mother’s stories. despite his natural love for her, their relationship had been strained towards the end, and his belief in anything she’d claimed was rocky at best. but the name doesn’t mean too much to me, he added on with honesty. if you do not mind me asking, does your family also have a common name like this? khaemwaset had spoken many names while introducing himself, but they had already jumbled together in athamas’ head, and he had no idea which one was tied to himself or his kin.