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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!
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.