Lion Head Mesa In my defense, I always fall for confidence

Set during this!

Melody was restless. In spite of her anxious energy and inability to sleep, she was still quite unwilling to face the rest of the pack. They would see her and know, surely.

So she paced instead. Pacing, endlessly. Trying not to cry, trying not to think of — no, no, she wouldn't go there. It would not happen. It would all be okay. She had to make herself believe that.

After a morning of calm - broken only when his soothsayer came to speak to him avidly of the goings-on of the palace, which could be likened to withstanding a large fly buzzing around an empty room - Harakthe decided to dismiss himself, and took his leave of his temporary quarters.
He wandered the grounds for a short time, basking in the sun, trying to recite to himself the names of the Neb, Nebet, Hem, Hemet, and others of Akashingo he had met, or heard of. As he re-entered the mesa proper Harakhte caught sight of a figure ducking through the halls, and followed.
Fellahin! He called after them, unaware that he was addressing someone else, not a servant.
Come now, girl. I will not call again - he hurried to add, thinking the woman was merely ignoring him; he had half a mind to address the quality of their training if they were so swift to ignore visitors they were meant to attend, but held off for now.

In the midst of her fretting, Melody hardly noticed she was being called to. She certainly didn't expect to be addressed as Fellahin. When she realized what was happening, her ears flattened. Her reaction was immediate —

Fuck you, buddy, I'm a goddamn priestess! She snapped, and turned to hurry away from him. Melody was in no mood for this. And she looked nothing like a coyote! ... right?

The reaction he witnessed was far from what he would expect from a fellahin, or a lady, or anyone! Especially addressing himself, whereas everyone in his retinue had always been courteous and obedient. It was a rudeness Harakhte was absolutely not used to, and he didn't know what to do about it.
However he could not avoid what was said: that this was a priestess! A crass one, but a worshipper of the sungods nonetheless. No doubt working the duties of Senmut while the true priest of Akashingo was off at the lakeside.
Harakhte was not accustomed to being brushed off like this. He would not relent, but he would adjust his approach accordingly. Although the fur along the nape of his neck had begun to prickle, he moved to follow the woman.
Excuse me! He sounded exasperated; but he took a breath as he got closer and took on his usual hawkish stupor. I am still learning of all the people of Akashingo. My apologies, he stepped around her to stop her from escaping, which wasn't the best move but he felt entitled to her attention now that he had it.
I am Harakhte. I come from the sands of Akhet. I should not have made assumptions of your station.
Plus there were better uses for that foul mouth of her's, he thought, bemused.

He did not let her go. Melody stopped with a fire blazing in her eyes, but after a few moments, it faded from her. She wasn't truly angry with him. It was just that she was so worried — not for herself, but for —

No, she would not think of him now. It's alright, She relented, allowing herself a brief respite from worry to observe that he was handsome. I'm still learning, too. I'm Melody. Sorry I yelled, I - I'm just -

Do you think he'll be okay? She did not specify, did not think to.

His apology was mostly done for show, but it was enough to calm the woman before she could become truly hysterical. She quickly diminished her own ire, swallowing it, and filling the air with apologies. Harakhte took note of her state and knew to be careful from that point on.
Plus, she seemed distracted; the obvious leap that Harakhte had taken, that this woman was taking over temporarily from Senmut, was confirmed by her own words. Though she did not name him specifically there was a worry there, and the prince was again amused.
He -- Senmut? He knew no other priests, and naming him aloud was unnecessary, but Harakhte wanted to confirm his own suspicions. He was careful as he watched the priestess for any reaction.
I have spoken with him a number of times. He is a smart man, and from what I understand he took many of your palace guards with him. The mazoi here are well trained - he is no doubt, safe.
Perhaps it would be best to get her mind off of the man.
I wonder -- if you have the time -- whether we might take a walk? I have not seen where the priests do their work. In my home, we have particular holy places that they keep to. It does not seem the same applies here. I would very much like to learn.

Melody swallowed hard at the sound of his name, nodding because for a moment she did not trust herself to speak. She hated that she was so worried. It was a weakness, and no one needed that right now. But Harakhte, the man from another land, seemed willing to offer comfort. She took a few careful breaths and let her embarrassment take precedent over the anxiety.

Yes, yes, I can show you, Melody turned to lead him without thinking much about it. A distraction would help, perhaps. Why did she care, anyway? Senmut hated her. Melody was silent as she mulled this, not even considering that she made a quite boring companion.

They walked together for a bit, with Harakhte keeping pace as if he belonged there. He ducked through the shadows of the mesa or squinted in to the direct light when they came to that, but nothing seemed to bother him.
The quiet did, though. He wanted to know more about Akashingo and was impatient — but this woman had been nearly apoplectic before, and he didn't want to deal with further mania. He had to be careful if he was to get what he desired.
Have you been hemet long? He wondered aloud, watching the blue sky rather than the priestess. Perhaps redirecting his attention this way would relax her.