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With idle wonder did the coywolf observe his foreign surroundings, shivering beneath a coat ill-suited to anything beyond glaring sun and hot, dry winds. This was certainly one of his more lucid dreams, and Mekh couldn't help but marvel at the minute details his mind had somehow managed to conjure up simply for the sake of a long nap. He'd always minded the details, spoken or observed.

The social dynamics of Kemet were less of an obstacle course to navigate and more of a series of interconnecting rivers to study as they flowed into and around one another. Some mixed easily, while others blended about as well as the Baltic and North seas with a dividing line so visible it could almost be seen with the naked eye.

Mekh wasn't quite sure where he fit in. Loyal servant and companion to Seti, yes - but to everyone else, he was simply an accessory, an oddly-shaped vase standing idly against the backdrop of their busy lives.

He didn't mind.

A halting series of barks caught his attention, and the coywolf recognized their origin. How intriguing! Why would Sabast be in his dream? Normally it would have been Seti himself, and they would stroll beneath a warm sun while the Pharoah would speak of politics and women and Mekh would be content merely to listen.

He changed course, spindly limbs trotting awkwardly through the snow as another gust of cold wind threatened to blow right through him. By the gods, what was the purpose of this frigid dream?

Hello, Sabast, Mekh greeted casually, as if nothing were amiss. You look quite dour today. What's the matter?

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