Lion Head Mesa i'm waiting to panic

future dated to may 18th

the first ones to greet racharra were guards. never before had they'd been so on edge. and for how long she doesn't know.

the nebet awaits to be spoken to, stoneface shielding a trembling constitution. hyperaware of her own heartbeat, she shifts and sighs in hopes of stomaching through the lump in her throat and the emptiness in her body and that godforsaken drum that keeps beating.

there was no anger from Pharaoh upon the return of her Nebet. she did not delay in moving to where she would be waiting beyond a quiet sob of heartfelt gratitude to Khonsu, Whose altar she had lingered before until the news came,
and she swept into the room, eyes wide and filled with such worry! thank the Gods! Toula breathed as she moved nearer to her, noting no wounds nor new hurts acquired on her journey. no, then and there, Toula only felt relief—Racharra was alive, Racharra was here! 
for this moment, that was all that mattered to her.

a sob of a prayer is the second greeting the girl receives.
there was a bit of joy, knowing that she was missed. but guilt soon returns, never far behind as of late. and so the nebet dives into a bow at the feet of her majesty.

none can know. she would not speak of her near-death experience, nor why it took so long to reach moontide, nor of her increasing questioning and doubt.

i'm so sorry. racharra gasps, choking on emotion. i'm sorry for leaving sooner than ordered.

no, she breathed in turn, no, I am sorry, how could she explain? how could she be understood? Racharra was raised in these halls, but only now was Toula keenly aware of how she had not been born to them. she had been brought here to be freed! saved! and had Toula done all that for naught? freed her from one terrible man to send her to another? 
there need be no wedding if you do not want one. what if you wish to be a priestess? what if you wish anything else for yourself but for that? I offered you and your siblings freedom, sanctuary—and I will not take this away from you, her eyes were rimmed with the tears that threatened to pour, but her voice was filled with heartfelt conviction. Toula had thought that Racharra wished to be wed, but perceived her early flight to be a show of her hatred to the very idea—
in quiet moments, Toula had waited in the Nebets rooms as though she would appear. she held the gemstone gifts of the girl close to her chest, before her very heart. her prayer to Khonsu had only been: if she returns to me, I promise You I shall set this right,

it wasn't hatred though that plagued her. oh, but maybe it did? she wasn't sure.

you've done nothing wrong. i know what i must do, and that is why i left — i visited the moontribes, and will hear word soon from one. racharra finally rises, lips curled in such a wide smile her golden eyes crinkled into crescents. ogreish teeth threatened to rear their ugly heads, so she's quick to temper herself. their matriarch is a matchmaker, moonwoman they call her. at the very least, it is a start.

..i did not wish to cause any trouble. i just.. the nebet shifts to a more neutral, contemplative expression as she scavenged for the right words. ..i don't know. at the moment, it was just her and toula, not Pharoah nor the Divine One. all pretenses of nobility fade for just a moment. i felt lost.

so, she had gone to the moontribes! and Toula looked upon her with pride, for all that she has accomplished with no emissary but for herself. perhaps she had been wrong then, perhaps it was the girls wish after all, but then… why had she gone alone?
you troubled my heart plenty, leaving in such a way, she lamented, but her voice was lighter now, jesting. it is okay to feel lost. but I do not wish for you to feel forced. my beautiful girl, it is not too late. the moonwoman and I will speak, but it need not be about you, now she reaches out to hold the girls paw, eyes searching.

the jest softened racharra further.

and i apologize for that. when i left, i hadn't really considered the ramifications of my sudden disappearance.

she pauses to look upon toula's offer, and accepts her warmth with the silent extension of her hand.
this warmth was worse than any punishment she could've received. torture, a scolding, exhile, would've been better. at least then things would be simpler, and racharra would for sure know that the red palace was never her home rather than constantly debate if she was ever fit to call it such. whatever toula was searching for, racharra wished she would tell her what it is she found: she might've been looking for it too.

i don't think i feel forced.. nervous, perhaps? confused. i don't know what is it i want in a man. what did you feel when you first met the consort?
lavender comes to mind.