Lion Head Mesa I don't want to rattle

The seer trudged through Akashingo, sniffing at each scent left behind by one of the Fellahin or one of the guards. The air was warmer, suggesting that they would shed the chilly winds of winter for spring. As Crowfeather rounded a corner and found one of the windows that overlooked the grounds outside of the living quarters, he paused.

The shadow had put off speaking with the woman. He had not wanted to fulfill Ramesses’ wishes so soon. There were plans in his head that he spent most of his time mulling over, reshaping. Crowfeather did not want to grow attachment to Akashingo. He knew that it was not a place where he would ever feel at peace.

Lifting his snout, Crowfeather called out for the woman called @Maegi. He waited, hoping that she might find him.

A call—for her. She didn't recognize the voice. Slowly, she roused, for once not lost in a poppy stupor. Because of that, the edges of things seemed unusually sharp, and her head throbbed more than usual. Throbbed even greater as she hit the light outside the quarters, and she squinted, gazing around.

There, a lingering shadow. As her gaze began to adjust, Maegi took in his appearance—a lanky shadow, and riddled with scars. She gave him a nod, then tilted her head in question.

I don't believe we've met, she said rhetorically. What can I do for you?

They had not met. Crowfeather felt anxiety spike within him, realizing that he had summoned a perfect stranger to come speak to him. Had Ramesses begun to wear off on the shadow? No… no, no – it could not be that. He was simply doing his duty while he was a guest in the Pharaoh’s palace. This eased him into a small smile. The expression did not reach his honey gaze.

We have not. I am Crowfeather. The Pharaoh has asked me to speak with you. He said you had known each other from before, that you were considering claiming the woodland to the nor- north. A small nod followed, though the shadow did not look as though he was at ease in the conversation. These talks were not things he had ever dealt with before.

He says you have a mind for herbs. I- I would like to learn some of what you know, if you can share it.

Crowfeather was not a happy man. She knew better than anyone else that expression, the smile that did not reach the eyes. She gave him a sympathetic look in return, smiling a bit wryly as he mentioned the woods, then returning her face to affability as he spoke of herbs.

The woods were once my home, Maegi explained. But I will never live there again. And she left it at that.

As far as plants. . . He's half-right, she said, shrugging. My father was a poisoner, and he taught me some of what he knew. I've experimented, here and there; I know what plants can hurt and kill. And I suppose I do know the basics. . .moss for wounds, and so on.

Her brows lifted slightly. Is there anything in particular you want to know?