Lion Head Mesa yesterday i woke up sucking a lemon

@Toula @Rashepses

he had left the wilds with his mother in her search of his once-siblings long ago, but they had never strayed far. at some point, he’d found himself completely alone- and he had spent his months just south of the lowlands, making an odd life for himself, somehow- motivated purely by a canine’s instinctual drive to keep living. there were hazy memories of the time before he was by himself, but they were few, leaving him with little to identify himself with. he knew his own name: athamas ostrega. he knew that his dark-furred mother had considered herself an important creature destined for greatness, the daughter of a supposed queen he never knew. but his former connections were lone-gone, and his childhood was a box of unanswered questions. 

he did seek purpose, still. in spite of the emptiness, and the loneliness, that he felt, he had understood there was more that could be gotten out of life. being alone now didn’t mean he needed to be alone forever. and though he often dreamt of a reunion to his blood-kin, one where he would’ve had more time with his siblings, a better understanding of what friendship was- the hope for that reality had withered away. 

he came to the mesa by way of the meadow. the autumn heat had begun to fade into early winter chill, and in this morning a light mist clouded the land. the grasses beneath his paws became sparse as he made his way towards a great, flat mountain that stood out against the bleak grey sky. the borders smelled of a group, a promise that he could be part of something… part of a community… athamas hesitated here for a long moment, indecisive. he was shy to summon anyone- who was he, to ask for a place anywhere? he had nothing to his name, no accomplishments worth mentioning. he was a remnant puzzle piece to an old legacy that he had never known, a skinny boy with little to offer except his desperation to know love and belonging. 

despite this all, his choice was finally made, and he released a call up into the empty morning air, standing then with his tail held low beside his haunches and his posture slightly submissive, a display of his respect to whoever might arrive.

psst toulashepses is still in muat-riya, i will send u a prince <3

to khaemwaset, there was no reason not to act as he had decided himself to be. early he rose with the priest to sing solemn prayers, then it was off for study with the physician. back to the hem for lorekeeping and histories, the annals of a powerful dynasty.

he had come to enjoy the wellspring and the attention of the servants there, but always, always were his Horus-eyes turned toward the horizon. enemies lurked there, and his young imagination created a thousand stories about what must be happening beyond the line of mountains.

that call rose when he was in the middle of sparring den under the watch of a mazoi. parting, he panted and turned his sharp ears in attention. choosing not to wait for senmut, the amiir left their fighting-grounds and trotted along the red paths until he was outside the mesa. 

sun struck his eyes; brow furrowed, khaemwaset made his careful day down the three great steps and out into the red land.

a retinue followed, kept at a distance by a slash of his paw. the stranger was thin and of little account save for the blaze of autumn marking his frame. mollified by such respect, khaemwaset attempted to look down his own nose in the manner of rashepses. "you have come to akashingo, the Red Land inherited by my mother, pharaoh isetnofret toula. my father is the divine God of the Red Serpent, rashepses of ta-senet." he did not blink. "who are you?"

oopsie daisy! i had no idea, since i just rejoined i haven't read up on ongoing plots or anything... X) thanks for saving the thread!!!

 


the time that he waited felt like an eternity to the anxious athamas, who had already begun to regret calling anyone at all. he had no idea what he ought to say or do, and he had very little social experience whatsoever in comparison to most. he could only trust his base instincts- a submissive, non-threatening wolf will tuck his tail and avert his gaze, never wishing to give the impression of putting up a challenge. 

a group approached, to his surprise- and the man, no, the boy that lead them quickly became clear. he was dark-furred like athamas, though he sported brilliant golden accents, a contrast to the yearling's rusty orange nape. athamas seemed to shrink even smaller when the boy arrived in front of him, although secretly a bit confused to see someone younger than himself taking charge of these wolves. 

he seemed confident and stable as he introduced his land and his kin. the way khaemwaset spoke made athamas feel as if he ought to know these names or their significance, though he had little understanding of what being a pharaoh or divine god meant. still, it was clearly important.

ah... thank you, for letting me visit the edge here of your akashingo. i am athamas ostrega. he replied. i... i am looking for a place to stay and work. he was not sure how else to justify his presence here... he craved community, he was desperate for it- but he knew it could not be earned through nothing. i can work in whatever you need. i would be greatful for the chance to help your akashingo, if it is needed... despite his politeness, his speech pattern was clunky and awkward, plain. but the best he could do was give it a shot and hope that there was a place for him anywhere.

no worries! been a lot going on <3

who was this? khaemwaset was not often at the borders, but the absence of their gilded godheads made him feel rather entitled to be there.

his akashingo, and a proud white smile climbed the boy's countenance: rashepses' grin. for a long silent time he only stared at the man, hoping to dissuade him. or at least test; the prince was always in welcome of a sport which rejected another.

yet he did not only move in cruelty; it was with brisk appraisal of the other that khaemwaset paused. "we are a kingdom. we use soldiers. but what else can you do?" the amiir inquired. "walk with me. we will give you a meal and a sleep at very least."

not hospitality, he reminded himself: control. a lazy paw waved back the mazoi and the fellahin as he invited athamas into their land. "ostrega. what does it mean?" asked the boy in languid tone, though his eyes sought all he might glean from the stranger.

each moment seemed to pass slowly for athamas. in the seconds that khaemwaset bore his gaze into the yearling, his stomach seemed to continuously drop, as if he was on a cart tipping off the edge of a tall, steep drop on a rollercoaster. when the boy in front of him finally spoke at all, it was a relief to his nerves.

khaemwaset made mention of this kingdom employing soldiers- it was not a fact that excited athamas, admittedly. he felt that he had had enough of sparring in his childhood already, raised by his mother for a future battle that would likely never come to be. he had the skills, and the practice, but he had no love for spilling blood, and he had not sparred at all since he had last seen mira a couple months prior.

and yet, the prince’s words were true: what else can you do? athamas could turn away to search for a peaceful group that he may never find. he could go someplace else and find himself tied up with wolves far more cruel. or… or he could stay here, walk with this boy who offers him a meal and a place to sleep, and hope that the kingdom of akashingo was not one that needed to use their soldiers too often.

o-oh, thank you so much for your kindness, he stuttered out, wishing there was some gesture he could make to better demonstrate his respect. 

athamas swallowed a lump in his throat as he moved to follow khaem’s lead. he watched with masked awe at how the boy waved off the other canines with a languid flick of his paw. his power here was clear- it both excited and intimidated him. 

athamas’ ears perk with surprise when the boy asks a question of himself. ostrega is my bloodline. i… he hesitated to continue, unsure of himself, and so as he did so his black ears flattened humbly against his skull. my mother used to tell me that my family used to be important- that my mother’s mother was a feared ruler of a kingdom on a huge mountain. he feels awkward sharing this- there was clearly no power left in this name, considering athamas himself was a lone wanderer with no ties. he also wasn’t quite sure he fully trusted his mother’s stories. despite his natural love for her, their relationship had been strained towards the end, and his belief in anything she’d claimed was rocky at best. but the name doesn’t mean too much to me, he added on with honesty. if you do not mind me asking, does your family also have a common name like this? khaemwaset had spoken many names while introducing himself, but they had already jumbled together in athamas’ head, and he had no idea which one was tied to himself or his kin.

for a time, khaemwaset did not speak. he led the fellow up the trio of natural rough-hewn steps, through the open-air throne room with its standing seat of languid crimson rock, and into the passageway beyond. "we have no common names between us," the prince said at last, glancing toward his tired charge with an appraising look.

ostrega had once been the name of a king. now only this exhausted nobleman wore the title. khaemwaset knew the world existed beyond akashingo. muat-riya. the desert. the war, which by now seemed so distant from him that it might as well be another realm.

but this man was real. he had come from somewhere beyond, and he wished to command the stories from athamas before sleep. "you may call me khaemwaset only, if you would like. or — Divine One," he smoothly suggested, plucking the favorite of his mother's titles from his lexicon.

down the halls, into the networking of red chasm moved with movement of those who served. "bring a meal," khaemwaset ordered of no one in particular. "we will take it in the priest's chambers."

the wellspring for now was cold, shrouded only in the tiniest lingering scent of the flowers that bloomed in shafts of light along polished walls. he led athamas away from this pool and up to a small, neatly appointed series of rooms that were otherwise austere, free of decor or pomp.

"senmut will join us when we are finished. he is our hereditary prince. that means my mother made him who he is, but he was only a servant before." on the floor, thrown plush skins over fragrant reeds, servants bringing goat's-eyes and pheasant heads, rabbit haunches, and even a taste of rare and coveted honey. "he has no claim to the throne except if there is no heir. and i am he." laughter as he reclined.

"eat, athamas," khaemwaset insisted. "i want to know more about your mother's mother."

he observed every place curiously as they walked, familiarizing himself with it all. this could be my home, he thought, thrilled by the idea. 

khaemwaset shared that there were no common names among them, unlike athamas and the 'ostrega' that hung sadly at the end of his title. he wondered if he ought to ditch it, but it was a decision he had all the time in the world to think on, and so he shelved this thought for later.

"you may call me khaemwaset only, if you would like. or — Divine One." 

Divine One, athamas echoed, testing out the unfamiliar title on his tongue. it meant nothing to him, for he knew nothing of divinity- but if it pleased khaemwaset, then it was no trouble for the yearling to adopt. 

they moved along the passages, the red hallways bustling with servants, to whom the young king of akashingo called out a request. a meal sounded amazing right now, but athamas tried not to get his hopes up- he did not know yet if this was a cruel leader who might eat before him just to taunt. 

he followed carefully as they made their way past an open pool, into a smaller place that was rather plain. the divine one mentions senmut- a former servant, now a prince, yet one who would never have the throne as long as khaemwaset was here. 

athamas thought of his mother- her determination, as she had once shared, to conquer the throne of her great mountain despite all obstacles, despite whoever might've planted their flag on her birthright. athamas had not been very old when she had begun to share these ambitions- it had been his own life's purpose too, as he was raised to help her achieve this. with whatever violence it would take, he knew, until he'd broken free. athamas thought of this, and then imagined that this senmut must be a trusted man indeed- otherwise having a secondary prince who only needed to remove the heir above him to take control seemed dangerous. 

the arrival of the luxuries cut his train of thought, and his mouth nearly began to water as all sorts of specialties were placed before them, things he could never have dreamed to taste. in the presence of all this wealth, athamas felt even more worthless- like a speck of dust beside a mountain. they were incomparable, him and this boy, and yet his imagination ran free... if mother had taken back the land that was hers, would he have become a royal prince, and lived such an easy life? but he knew in the back of his mind that it would never have been reality- he would have had to die for that, for her goals, and athamas was not willing to waste his one life away as a disposable shield.

khaemwaset invited him to eat. athamas hesitated, wanting to be polite, but he carefully took a rabbit's haunch, the most familiar delicacy on the red floor. i thank you, he spoke to his company, voice sincere. athamas took a bite, a delicious bite that felt like heaven, especially for the hungry yearling. and he could not believe that just an hour before he had been standing in the empty landscape, wondering whether to call.

"i want to know more about your mother's mother."

athamas swallowed, running his tongue over his fangs to make sure his teeth were cleared of any remaining rabbit flesh. 

my mother has told me her name was hydra. she was a dark wolf- darker than me, dark all over- with blue eyes. she lead a large group in the mountains, and had other packs across the land that would happily do her favors, whenever she asked. athamas wondered if she had commanded servants with ease like khaemwaset did.

she was a master of battle- strong, brave and ambitious, easily gathering the respect of wolves around her. my mother has said that she would have one day ruled the entire land, but a giant rock fell from the sky, destroying part of the mountain and hydra with it. many of her- er, i suppose my- family was destroyed, and seperated, and so almost nothing was left of it, the group or their power. if he knew much more, he would have shared- but his knowledge of hydra was sparse. it was clear from the way she'd spoken of her that mother had respected her greatly, but even still, mira's words had mainly been reserved for her own ambitions. 

he took another careful bite, swallowing. if... if it would be alright with you, Divine One, i would like to hear about your family, too. surely this place was not built in a day, and athamas knew there must be a story behind it all.