Lion Head Mesa wrath & poison

khusobek was shouting before he entered the red sands.

he bore @Safiya up the steps; he carried her through the open-air palace and down into the mazework of caverns and rooms. his legs gave; the crocodile sagged against the wall as arms more hale lifted his daughter away and off.

dimly he registered the erpa-ha. "eset feared infection." in part was the story relayed, khusobek doing his level best not to belabor his horrible choice.

"i need to go back until pharaoh sends word." water, sloshed down his throat; meat ground beneath teeth for a tongue that could not taste it. "the men who did this, who were part of it, they are lower than Set's offal. and if they hurt her, and i have hurt one of theirs,"

he did not finish, only looked painfully down the corridor to where the servants had taken his child.

Blissful stirring only waking a few times to find herself in pain amd being borne towards Akashingo. She could only croak out Machi and stirred a few times. He was still alive, but she didn't know where he was.

Machi. Alive. Hurt. She mumbled it in sleepy ramblings, feverish and hot. The medicine did it's job, but it kept her senses dulled. She was oblivious to her surroundings. Only knew her father by scent by touch, then he was gone and all she wanted was him back. Coldness rushed in her father's wake as he put duty above, as he was supposed too.

She was placed in a palace she knew no one, with pain and fever. But she still knew no fear, just burning.

safiya was hardly conscious now. when senmut parted ways with the jodai it was to work over her with eset's offering, adding a tincture of poppy and a slathering of cobwebs almost to that entire small face.

her father had followed the red prince; khusobek stood stricken in the doorway.

"i am sending you back with bearberry, golden poppy, coriander, peppercorns, and salt. all things requested by @Eset. but first, jodai, please. nothing will be gained by rushing. eat. rest. i will send a meal here for you."

touching the broad shoulder of the guard, senmut left him, glancing back to see the crocodilisik slowly pulling a furred coverlet up to the girl's chin. 

Sekhmet. i am no priest of war. i am no drinker of the scarlet beer. but i implore and beseech You, Great Huntress; dispatch those who would stand against your chosen. let their hearts be ground to blood.

machi! hurt; alive.

the guards held the border; he sent them to scour for @Machiavelli carefully between the river and the pass. what akashingo was in need of now might be a mereo.

Safiya was inbetween waking and sleeping. The agony that took hwr body was more than she had ever felt. But beneath the pain, there was a simmering thick rage. She clung to it. Clung like a drowning man. 

Each breath was harsh and agony speared through her eye. She wanted to open it to move it, but it was gaping, empty. Strings of sinew and nerves.

There in the quiet she fought for her life, fought hard. In her head like a mantra. Kill em. Kill em.

Over and over again she promised herself. He had hurt Machi, had torn her eye. For what. Senseless violence. Had he used his words like a big boy, the situation could have been much different. 

Instead in cases of men whose balls were bigger than their dicks. They acted up. And it had been a hard lesson at Safiyas expense. She wouldn't trust so easily ever again.

can post him again if directly interacted with or he can be PP'd freely by senmut <3

horrible things collected. voices whispered down halls and words filled the store rooms. he had walked against the grain while a guard shoved by to go march borders. another fellahin rushed with supplies.

he could not say he carried deep familiarity of either one, but they were of Muat-riya. they were under the cloak of the Pharaoh's reign and he knew in that alone they must be tended to.

yet his heart pumped wildly within him. what of Lady Medusa? what of Lord Gucci? the little Lord had been missing for — Gods he did not know! — longer than this he assumed. there was no reason to think he had been harmed too. yet his mind whirled with worry for the pale Hemet who might have still lingered in the oasis. he was selfish, but it was rooted in goodness.

his features were dark and solemn — and once more he wondered if he should have been made a mazoi instead of a fellahin. he might have never survived even his first true battle, but it was a lion's heart stuck behind the small breastbone of a coyote.

the father retreated. the girl chanted violence. senmut irrigated her wounds from the froth of wolfsteeth, again, again, again. he treated them with cloths soaked in cold chamomile; he bound them slick with willow and a salve of honey with fireleaf, to eat away any infection.

"mix the poppy into the strawberry wine. half a dose, there. good. safiya," the red priest murmured, "drink. drink."

and if his voice sank through her consciousness, charmion held a curled leaf to her mouth. across the girl, for the first time, the eyes of high priest met that of devoted fellahin.

She drank when she was bid. There was an eternal fire burning in her singular eye as moved restlessly. Occasionally opening and shutting. But the pain in her other side jarred her. She wanted to scream at the holy fire that lanced her head. It was unbearable. The skin about her neck felt raw and itchy and flaky.

But darkness always took her before she could explore the feeling and the pain.

he did everything as instructed. he gave her drink when she stirred for it and found his heart burst with relief when she settled back into something that seemed less conscious. only if to spare her the pain of waking hours. such sensations might change her young mind for life. a fracture in time for her.

her transition from girlhood to mazoi should have been marked by something other than a loss of a sense.

thoughts kept close to himself. only pulled from them by the wise gaze of Erpa-ha. charmion might have shrunk beneath it any other time. now he felt only confident, to know this place was still held by one so steadfast while the royals walked elsewhere.

i will be the palace's will, he kept the leaf at the ready should the young mazoi stir again. anything may be asked of me and i will answer.

his Lord of his House was not here to stop his body servant from being tasked with things beyond fellahin. he had decided that akashingo was a place plenty deserving of being a shield for.

"stay with her," senmut asked in a voice that was almost a plea, hoarsened by his distress and the impact of the work that must be done.

"and pray." his paws smoothed the bedclothes, his eyes lingering in pain on the poor child. "i will do the same. perhaps we will keep her ka from departing us."

medicine for pain. broth for the shrunken stomach. they would keep her eyes and nose moistened by rabbitfur cloths. the rest was safiya's to choose; life with them or peace in the Land of Reeds.