it's the most people she has ever seen. although her memory is a day long.

all well-toothed beasts, from the gruff guardsmen stiff as statues, to the harried servants rushing past carrying furs and papyrus reeds.

she is looked at. rudely or subtly. but the beast bearing the name imenet is an oddity here.

she draws in as nakhtmin is bathed. pulls away from wary servants. peers into the water, and tries to arrange her fur in a manner least barbarous.

as the thick lock falls over her eye anew, imenet forfeits her efforts.

nakhtmin is easy to glare at when he speaks up.

gods. imenet repeats. she doesn't know where her skepticism rises from. mention of youth pads it out. nakhtim's insistence upon manners firms it up.

she is seated with knees drawn up, arms around them, facing the oryx and away from the grand entrance, when the divinity of skyspear arrive.