Cricket Creek Bog hippopotamus

"nyra," ramesses supplied, but not helpfully. "i believe she and kynareth seek to expand their empire here. she had a child this year, and while she was already brutish, these things have made her even more cruel."
the old priest was beyond the age of posing a true threat to these powerful saints. ramesses had not missed how aditya had looked away, but pressed on, rambling in an attempt to keep the heat at bay.
"she does not like me." a grin. "i am not made of clay to be molded. i am pharaoh." a glint in his eye before it subsided beneath langour again. "where did you go, holy man?"