---

Lost.

For how long had he wandered this foreign land? It had surely been months - perhaps even years, who could say? Only the gods knew how far his paws had traveled, how he had endured the many trials and sufferings this terrible world had to offer. Poisoned air in the forests, toxic water in the highlands; the Wastes had scorched the very fur from his skin, and the heavy, unyielding clouds to the north had shrouded Ra's light from the land.

Mekh looked like shit.

Mekh felt like shit.

He could not find his Pharoah, he had found no safe shelter. At every turn, he found himself assailed by larger predators, inclement weather, natural disasters, and now -

Tilting his head up to look at the darkening sky, the moon bleeding like a great red wound, Mekh felt his chest tighten. Now Khonsu was acting up.

So distracted was he, the coywolf did not detect an incoming tree-root as he abruptly stumbled forward. Disheveled, disgruntled, and thoroughly out of his element, Mekh swore. Ghabi! (Idiot!)

But he was not alone any longer, and had very nearly bumped into a woman in a posture of prayer.

Oh, he said. Thankfully she looked unharmed; Mekh offered a deep bow, bending himself nearly as low as she. Apologies, lady with fur of sunset. I did not see you there.

---

---

The curious familiarity of her prayer-speech gave him pause. It sounded just as the priestesses of the Kemet family had, a hopeful plea to the gods for their benevolence and generosity; he paused, looked up at the moon, and seemingly parsed the connection.

For just a moment her eyes were wrathful, turning their ire upon him like twin daggers. He did not know what stayed her righteous anger from further escalation, but here, in this strange pocket of silence where she carefully regarded him, Mekh appeared to be intrigued. She said nebet, and referred to a house - she also carried the scent of many, so that must mean -

The answer came in short order.

Satriya.

He had not heard of this particular dynasty, but there were many beneath the watchful eye of the gods as they dutifully carried out their deities' sacred will as intermediaries.

I was foolish and did not observe as keenly as I might, Mekh offered with another short dip of his head. I have grown - careless, in my journey.

'Journey' was a very lovely word for the hell he had experienced up to this point. It made it all sound very noble, and Mekh distantly hoped this might carry some weight against her perception of him versus any pity that might otherwise flicker across her delicate features. No; Mekh would hold onto what dignity he had left.

I am Mekh; a gift to my Pharoah, Seti of the Kemet, but now displaced, he said. It was sudden, and I still do not understand; as if Khonsu, or Shu, whisked me away from the house in which I served, and now -

The coywolf cast his gaze to the side as the Seti-shaped hollow in his chest tightened. They had been close. Now there is only Mekh.

Was this a punishment, he often wondered - had his lips been too loose, conveying information he ought not to have - or worse, had he in his penchant for acquiring knowledge managed to listen in on something sacred and holy, not meant for his lowly ears?

So far it felt like one.

The lady's iron eyes had softened only marginally, perhaps swayed by his fervent apology, but Mekh remained respectfully contained in his posture; he would not push his luck.

---