Lion Head Mesa she eyes me like a pisces when i am weak

@Toula <3 figured i'd go ahead and start it since seth is going on hiatus! dated for the 10th-ish?

Not once had she looked back upon her decision to abandon her post at the lake. Long was the journey, a monotonous one through grasslands and vivid steppes, until she was met with red sand and burning mid-June heat, golden and sharp against willowed features. 
But the sweat of her brow was a small price to pay for revenge. 
She'd parted ways with the dove as they approached the border, leaving her with the tall man who spoke of high rulers, of a dynasty that owns the mesa with a white-knuckled fist. Graceful people, she'd heard; slender and slick, cordial and silvertongued. And as she gazes upon the pillars of sand before her, she wonders if perhaps the lake had been guiding her to where she truly belonged. 
With guarded, but casual posture, she waits. It should not be long until she is approached, if the tall man was to be correct. 

I hope oh don’t mind me throwing tuna in here! Can delete if needed <3

It was always such a divine thing to be in the presence of Toula. The young queen was like a slice of warm pie and ice cream, something so comforting and inviting. And even if the two weren’t your favorite desserts, you’d still take a plate of both anyways. To tuna, that was the pure embodiment of Toula.

And so it was odd that the loyal fellahin was away from her, considering she was to be one of the favored. But tuna had sensed a shifting in the mess air and sands and had come to see what it was that was being brought to the doorsteps of Akashingo.

It delighted her to see someone waiting, and the coyote who had grown accustomed to wolves seeing her as (somewhat) an equal would be seen trotting in the general direction towards the stranger. And when she gets close enough, she would come to a halt and look upon the other before speaking.

“yew ‘re standin’ on thee edge a’wf Akashingo, stranger. What brings y’ew to the lan’ of the reeds?”

not at all! <3

What greeted her was a small creature; nearly half her size, a long-limbed tawny thing. Her nostrils flare. Wolf? Not a wolf. 
Confused as she was, her head dips into a cordial bow. Her shoulders straighten, ochre chest pushed outward. 
Hello, calm and cool is her greeting. I Zaahira. I come to A-ka-shin-go. I leave Lake. Tall man tell me Queen is here. Her frustration with her own words (of lack thereof) is hidden with a clearing of the throat and a snuffle. The serpent is many things, but a good speaker is not yet one of them.
Nevertheless, she continues, one flame-tipped paw lifted off the ground. You are Queen? 

to the other coyotes that made up the Fellahin, Tuna liked to think of herself as the biggest and the strongest. but when compared to a wolf, no matter what kind, she was reminded that her bloodline ran small for a reason. the woman with fiery eyes was no different from the others who have come to the sand.

when a bow is offered, it is politely returned to the other. this woman, Zaahira, did not speak with the fluency that Tuna would have come to expect, but she did not hold it against her. her message was crystal clear, and to Tuna, that was all that mattered, not the fluff that came with it, if any.

her eyes did not hide their shock when there was mention of the lake. the coyote shifts between her paws a moment before speaking. "ahm nawt th'a queen," she comes to say to Zaahira with a small shake of the head, "ahm 'er helper." that sure sounded better than a servant, Tuna always felt a need to put a little flare onto her work. "what does Zaa-hira want wit' queen Toula? what did th'a tall man tell yew?"

it was better to know the purpose before pushing her through to the blessed one herself, was it not? Tuna would not bring risk to the throne room without knowing there was no chance of danger.

So this was not the queen, but a humble villager. Perhaps some kind of peasant or servant, Zaahira wonders quietly to herself, watching the twitching ears atop the stranger's dusty little head. 
When she's asked of the reason for her arrival, her expression sours, a hardness to tangerine eyes, ears that flatten. Khaba traitor, she snorts, pearled ivory poking out from under a blackened upper lip. Khaba kill Raven. Me, she points to herself with a paw. have in-for-ma-tion. Me help A-ka-shin-go, A-ka-shin-go help me. 
She takes a moment to compose herself, glassy eyes blinking shut for just a moment before opening again with a twinkle. Me join A-ka-shin-go. Me be Mazoi, yes? Like tall man? 

there is sadness masked by anger. and when Zaahira finally adds in the missing piece, it all makes sense.

Tuna had seen this blessed raven; she had seen her corpse and had run to the steps of the throne to decry such a killing with no mercy. It had not been the first bloody path that she has crossed, but it was something that seemingly wrecked her internally. what was this monster of a man doing to kill the others who supposedly took up arms to protect his lake?

there was a need for his flesh and blood, and Zaahira would open the final lock to the door. Tuna comes to lower her head for a moment, "Ahm sorry fer ya'h loss," she says apologetically before coming to look around the mesa for others, "come, miz' Toula and miz'ter Senmut will see you an' decide what'a do. but rest'ah'ssured, Khaba will pay for his cr'ahmes."

a lowly promise from her. but it was something that would hold weight later.

she would come to offer herself as a guide for Zaahira to follow her into the red land. with haste, Tuna would make a beeline to the underground passage to the throne room, passing by the garden and murals until they would eventually come to the opening of divine light itself. 

and before anything, Tuna presses her forehead to the ground as she has become so accustomed to before rising to meet the gazes of others. and through all of this, she wondered what Zaahira was thinking.

paging lovely @Toula or @Senmut if you both are able <3

The fellahin's words of assurance are like honey on the back of a scratched throat, the warmth of rum that swallows your chest. A relief, to say the least. 
Zaahira gives a gracious nod of thanks, following her lead. Winding tunnels and dark passageways, leading to various places that speak of prestigious beauty. Golden-crested and intricate and so much more advanced than anything she had ever seen before. 
With wide eyes that land upon the throne room, she cannot help but push out a gasp, followed by a soft croon. Life in the lake had been so primitive. Could she even keep up with this?

No, no. She deserved this. 
Following the coyote's lead once more, she drops into her own bow. Calm, porcelain and protected, smooth as ice as she awaits the great Queen herself. And in the back of her mind, she thinks of Selena. The beautiful little Raven; the brightness of the smile she would have on her face if she were here. Justice will be served, my maiden.
The first thing she thinks she will do as soon as she is settled here is hold a vigil. 

fill me with your strength, Iset; guide Me! she willed. she had been praying for days upon what to do; she knew the Gods would show her the way. and as she entered her chambers after being groomed unto the point of becoming pristine, she felt Them with her, along with the fellahin and Mazoi that surrounded her. her scent of cinnamon and myrrh mingled pleasantly with that of the flower petals littered intentionally about the place. 
the Queen, young though she was, sat upon her throne and looked then like she was born for such a seat. and was she not? Toula no longer felt the thing so very hard to fill, and looked down her nose at the audience Tuna had brought to her. 
her gemstone gaze was soft upon the small, wiry creature that bowed before her. Tuna might not have been born here, but she did her duty as though she were. quickly the fellahin made her way into her heart; Toula made certain she was well taken care of. already she thought of another gift for her! 
now to the stranger her eyes turned. she had the build of a Mazoi—and Toula wondered when it was she had begun to think like this! still, she admired the strength of her body, thinking it rather beautiful.
it was then another fellahin introduced Toula, and all of her formal titles, more for the newcomer than for Tuna who already knew who she bowed before!  
please, rise, she willed of them both. who have you brought to me? she queried, gemstone gaze turning to the fellahin.

Zaahira wasn't quite sure what she'd expected, but it had not been a teenage golden girl. Quite the sight she was, though; deserving of respect despite her youth. Calm, polite. 
And so her head comes up, meeting eyes of sapphire with the fire of her own. Assalamu alaykom, her mother's tongue is thick with an accent not of her homeland, a language lost to years of lying dormant, but she greets her anyways. I Zaahira. I leave Lake. I join you, your people, one paw presses to her chest, and then, I want to serve A-ka-shin-go. 
The nerves poke at her, prodding with tiny needles that pierce skin, and yet she is calm. Perfectly poised, straight-laced and regal. And then, with the stab of a thousand knives, she says: Khaba need to go down. 

Toula was well-versed in a dozen tongues; when she heard this one speak in the one of their mother, her eyes brightened. a foreigner! 
who wished to join them! Toula had already decided to make this one feel most at home here— 
but there was more, and Toula felt something stir within her soul. that name again, her own damnable spot! since the beginning of her reign, he had been a rain-cloud threatening to bring about a deluge; Toula could no longer run away from this turn of bad weather, it seemed.  
but she would embrace this; rain brought crops, did it not? a necessary thing. and here before her was a harvester, kind enough to bring their scythe. 
and perhaps Akashingo was the desperately needed rain; Khaba was a weed in their harvest, that needed to be cut down. the Gods were providing her tools, she saw—or was she only seeing what she wished to, then? …was this what she wished to see?
Toula revealed nothing. she was well taught, and though she was gentle she was not simple. I have heard your wishes, and it is true I have the power to grant them, she let the words sink in, speaking slowly to be sure all was understood, but tell me more of Khaba, and why one of these wishes is to move against him. 
poetic, for him to be betrayed as he had betrayed Pharaoh! all things end as they began—
but also, Toula considered that the woman before her could be a spy!

It was as if the façade of cold had melted in an instant. She had become untethered. After all, what else had she to lose? 
As her eyes glass over, she is brought nearly to her knees once again, a string of strained weeps that echo in the throne room's walls. And as she cries, she tells the ruler everything. 
Khaba let Raven die, high-pitched and heavy is her voice. Khaba reason she is dead. He punish his wolf for no crime. He has harem, many women, yes? He use us. When we do not please, he kill. Let us kill each other. Khaba 'save' me, but he lies. 
She continues on, anguish laced in every broken word. There is betrayal at every corner; there is no friendship, no bond, no mercy. How little by little, his numbers have dwindled. He is weak, she cries, for he has turned those that once trusted him against him. Like Zharille, Legend, Selena, and now herself.
Her composure is regained by sniffling and physically pulling herself together, shoulders back and spine straightened. 
Her grip on the earthy floor tightens, nails digging down into clay. I help A-ka-shin-go bring Khaba down. I get home here. 

Toula was moved by this petition. her eyes were watery too, by the end, her breath stolen from her. 
she looses a breath when Zharille looks upon her. you are Mazoi—a warrior. a protector. I ask for your patience in your request… there are children there, and I must think of a way to keep them safe, too, for she had heard stories of war before. how there was so much death that came of it. it was indiscriminate in those bloody days—children were slaughtered, too. 
and Khaba had them. 
Toula looked to the woman before her, who had been shattered by this loss. as she bowed, Toula rose and swept nearer to her. those emotions had been very real. Zaahira needed a place to put her grief in the interim. 
but perhaps first… this one would rest. thank you for bringing me these truths, Mazoi. this man will not get away with these things, that much was certain! but for now, get settled within your new home—rest. a fellahin will show you your quarters, and bring to you a meal. Toula paused before then saying, and I shall find you, once you rise. I should like to show you something, Toula decided it would be best for the grieving woman to rest in a safe place to start—something she surely had not gotten a good night of in some time!

last post from me here!! thank you so much for the thread <3333

A wave of what could be considered relief is quick to follow the Queen's words as they hit Zaahira's ears. Many thanks, Your Highness, quivering, she bows her head once again. I serve you. I owe you many. 
It's then that she turns to the fellahin, a simple, weary smile crossing her lips. I follow you, yes? 

And as she is lead to her chamber, she is grateful to rest her travel-worn body for the first time in what must have been weeks. Sunken eyes come to a close, a small exhale of warm breath. She is safe now, and tomorrow marks the beginning of a new life as a Mazoi; but for this day, she is just a woman.