Lion Head Mesa fake out

Nazli busied herself, as if she had never gone through the turmoil of the previous few weeks. As if Ramesses still lived and thrived, and she was still a girl with endless wells of energy. She had gathered some offerings earlier in the day and now set to cleaning them properly for storage; but it was during this careful work that her concentration was broken by shouting.
She stopped her work and withdrew to the archway of the alcove, one ear turned to the hall where the voices carried. There was the storming sounds of steps, and then a sweeping shadow charging by her; a gust of air followed, and with it the furious call of the pharaoh. The message was clear but Nazli was stunned by it!
Khaba, a traitor? Banishment?
Mazoi moved through the hall next, and Nazli hurried back to her work.

an awfulmost thrumming in his skull, as if bulls were charging through.

not that different from reality, where he dodged the march of guardsmen.

gucci slipped into the first hallway he crossed, hopping on three legs, fourth raised to press itself into the base of his muzzle, futilely attempting to apply pressure though it to the brain.

he were ignorant of his limping, rotund self got in the way of a servant-girl.

The bumbling little man, Gucci, stepped in to the workstation without looking her way. He seemed as distracted as she was, and she did not see him until he had hip-checked her and caused the rabbit to fall from her grasp. It hit the floor with a dull thud reminiscent of another meal.
With a small huff, she tried to bend and grasp for it. The heft of her belly made this a struggle, and an uncomfortable one. She hastened to ask the neb - Please, could you -- I can't reach.
He may as well clean up his own mess.

hu- oh! awareness got into him not at first contact - shame on him! - but when the servant addressed him. through eyes squinted by the persisting thudding, gucci looked and saw little nazli.

not so little, any longer.

embarrassment came next, as the nobleman turned his head further and saw how he'd gotten quite directly in her way - her, child in a state!

oh, this hellspawned headache- forgive mah bumblin', girl. hurrying now, properly quadrupedal, gucci went to pick up the rabbit - the beastie nearly his size - and impressively managed to not at all lift it off the floor.

he dragged it to her, then sat and rose onto his hindlegs as if offering a fetched tennis ball.

Nazli tried to focus on the snake for now, and moved to tidy the dead thing back in to a neat coil while Gucci moved to help her. He dragged the fallen hare closer, which wasn't what she'd asked, but she could not find fault in the neb, and merely smiled as she sought to grab for it.
When that was tabled again, she thought of how best to clean the fur over again, and where to cut, and what to treat the meat with, and all of those little things that now came so naturally to the fellahin. Gucci was on his hind legs and looking rather small, but also very cute, and Nazli caught his maneuvering in the corner of her eyes, which made her laugh softly.
I could fetch you something - for your headache, if you'd like. Nazli knew a few basic things of herb-craft, after all her time spent with Tavina. It would give her a moment to compose herself, and to keep distracted from the goings-on of the palace; but most importantly, it would keep her away from Gucci's wandering eye, which she felt gravitate towards her roundness.

oh naw naw naw, these'uns come n go 's they please! jest, sometimes, 'tis th'... going-ons tha' worsen 'em. he tapped his head with a white-tipped paw. an ear twisted to point to where the mazoi had gone.

it was truth, mostly, as in it omitted how his blasted head had drummed ever since they scraped ramesses off the pavement.

now, man like me ain't got nah-where t'be. why don't ah help ya, hm? he rolled onto his feet, tail lightly wagging, smile warm. help this aging gent lose a pound, why dontcha? he grinned.

His words were sometimes hard to follow, but Nazli knew a dismissal when she heard one. He didn't seem interested in help, which put her at a disadvantage - that was her whole job, as a servant. If he didn't need her help though, she could focus on preparing the snake and the hare; and maybe having company wouldn't be so bad? Even if he was a strange little man.
When Gucci offered his help instead, Nazli was surprised - and a little bit offended. Did he think she was incapable? She was still a touch anemic after her recent incident, certainly, and in recovery from the recent weeks of turmoil - but --
His comment about his own weight made her stare down at him; this little man who couldn't have been bigger than a child! And he made jokes about his weight as if Nazli wasn't standing right there, wide as a boulder, unable to reach things!
I don't need help. She blurts before she can stop herself.
A second later, sighing over the snake in its coil, she murmurs - I suppose, if you are going near the storehouse on the corner - down the hall, nearest to Tavina's wares, you could take this meat with you. It has been salted and tended, but needs to be left upon a shelf for curing.
If he could reach that high, she thought.

how he wished he'd ever managed to sway her! give this child some guidance, some safety, some reassurance -

perhaps, alter the flow of time enough, to not see her like this now, swollen and anemic. scantly older than his own.

his smile lost its brightness, but lasted. eager nod of the head at the task assigned. he wouldn't think of the logistics now, just do, do, do.

atta me, then! another grin, and he sashayed over to the snake. before his mouth reached it, gucci paused.

he looked at her softly.

keep a sharp sharp eye 'n' brilliant head, dear. the noble said. 

he picked up the snake, careful to keep it coiled. ( it still dragged, of course. )

the old ain't ain't yet entombed. muttered, as he passed on down the hall.

He came to grab at the snake, and she nudged it closer so he would not struggle so overtly. When he came close to grabbing it, he looked to her and she paused, and they looked at one-another as if conspiring. Gucci's expression was soft and warm.
The words he spoke were — kind? They were advice, of a sort. A touch upon the busy hallways and raucous shouting they had both overheard; some olive branch to hope for safety. Then he grasped the snake and was on all-fours again, padding hastily (with that tap-tap-tap of his fast little gait) for the hallway.
Nazli watched him go, his parting statement hanging ominous between them as the chasm grew.
After a beat to process, she tucked in to work on the rabbit. Nazli wore a thin frown, concentrating as best she could around the foreboding feeling that now haunted her.