6/18/2025, 8:15 PM
Sweeping to her feet, Neith studies the moon’s silvering of his quiet shape. His is not a face she knows. She must have been mistaken.
“Come,” the queen welcomes all the same, “you are not intruding. Every traveler is owed a drink and a moment’s peace here.” She gestures to the stream with her chin, then returns her attention to the man, his crooked gait, and his striking two-toned eyes. His scent is dry, wearied, but not offensive. So many of them carried the heaviness of Re’s blaze upon their pelts.
Neith makes a little room along the embankment beside her, a place her stranger could rest, if he chose.
"I'm Merneith. My people and I are sheltering here while the heat endures, but we do not own these lands."
“Come,” the queen welcomes all the same, “you are not intruding. Every traveler is owed a drink and a moment’s peace here.” She gestures to the stream with her chin, then returns her attention to the man, his crooked gait, and his striking two-toned eyes. His scent is dry, wearied, but not offensive. So many of them carried the heaviness of Re’s blaze upon their pelts.
Neith makes a little room along the embankment beside her, a place her stranger could rest, if he chose.
"I'm Merneith. My people and I are sheltering here while the heat endures, but we do not own these lands."