Sea Lion Shores canopic

ramesses refused to surrender himself to the cold, even as it slid into the great rivers that carried the blue of his blood. his teeth ground together; he willed a harsher fate than this. battle, or perhaps in lust. a poet's death. not thralled to ice in some foreign land. "Ra, hear me," he shivered between the clack of his teeth. "hear Your servant."
his eyelids would have drooped in the next moment had not the fishy odor of a projectile struck first his nostrils and then his flesh.
ramesses' lip curled at the ugly food, but he fell upon it at once, devouring the gift he fervently believed was a gift from the god's barge. 
and then up came his proud lapis gaze, and pharaoh looked upon a figure that bled though the storm in shades of red-orange to his snow-muzzled eyes. 
touched by sunlight.
his wasting muscles tightened. "you walk as if this world does not trouble you," came his rolling tones to cut beyond the cascade of snow.