Osiris knew their time on this beautiful island was limited now that they readied themselves for the trip to Satriya, and he wanted to enjoy it for all it was worth. There were signs it had been inhabited either for a long time by the other party camped upon the shores or by someone not so long ago, and he enjoyed finding them; a den carefully dug, nests overgrown, a mess of bones and fur he thought must've been a cache once, a grave carefully laid for someone well loved. What paws had once graced this beautiful place, and why now did there seem to be nobody in these dusty nests or tending the resting places of those since past? A curiosity, a mystery Osiris could not solve. Perhaps it was good they were moving on, if long term habitation wasn't an option - not that settling here had been the plan, but the noble handmaiden could dream of living in such a lush haven as this.

It was late, but Osiris rarely strayed far from the Princess when she was awake. He was always prepared to fetch her whatever was needed or wanted, and though it left little time in the day for himself, he wouldn't change a thing for the world. She was the light of his life, the muse for his art, the shine that gave him liveliness; they might say she was only a goddess to be, a deity in training, but worshipping the young princess was second nature to Osiris. Her family had delivered him unto the life his father had always dreamed and though the purpose had shifted, he viewed Them more vibrantly than they could ever know a servant thought of his masters.
He would care for Satiset Neferseba as if she were his very own blood, worship her as if she were the last star in the sky, honor her name and serve her till his dying breath.

But at night, when there was no doubt some other servant to tend her sleepy needs, he sometimes dared to step away and take time for himself. If she still managed to follow he didn't mind that, either, but it was nice to spend some time lounging on the beach. Several suspiciously fish-shaped skeleton bits and shining scales littered the area nearby, visible through the wisps of fog drawn thin by the strong breeze, and Osiris was sprawled along the sand like a French girl waiting to be painted drawing his tongue along a damp forearm unhurriedly.
Perhaps he should pluck a few more salty morsels to see if any of the other late-nighter fellahin were peckish, or even to save for the Amiirad come morning.
A wide yawn split the dark cats jaws before he went back to grooming.

Skill - Ranger 1/5

Nakhtmin patrolled. It was dark, and somewhat chilly, but this did not deter him! Night was the time for hunters to be about, and ambushes to be plotted. But none of ill intent or any other intent would swim ashore without his knowing!

In the distance Osiris looked much like any other lion, and it gave the oryx stiff-necked pause before he recognized the stark pearlness of mane with revealed this lounging cat to be friend.

Shaking off the disappointment that he would not see battle, Nakhtmin approached with easy grace on wide, sand-surfing hooves. Hmm, here I thought to banish an intruder! But it seems the only vanquished tonight will lay at your feet, instead.

He chuckled, brushing some little bones aside. Did they give you good sport at least, my friend?

To say Osiris was not also paying attention for the paddle of others approaching the island would be a lie, but he didn't look forward to a tussle like Nakhtmin did. He hoped nobody dared approach the party at all, would've been happy, even, to not share the wisteria forest with others. The urge to protect her still lay strong against his shoulders; he'd fallen into his new job with ready gusto, and he thrived doing it, but it was hard to erase everything he'd grown up having beaten into his head. It wasn't pleasant at all to go against every expectation, every moment of training, every dream of his Fathers laying broken on the floor. He could still hear his sire asking, begging, what the point of taking a woman's job was after all he'd been trained. That disappointment echoed into each quiet moment like this one, staining it with shadow until some brief light came to chase them away again.

This foggy night, it was a true guard. A companion.
A friend.

Osiris heard the slow, heavy whump of each step he'd come to associate with larger hooved animals, and frankly, didn't know who else it could be. Sure, there were a great variety of beasts in Neferseba's court but.... well, who else would be out still working at this point in the night? Who else approached a lion with such boldness or ease of mind, the proof of his massive appetite scattered in the bones surrounding him? The feline smiled as his suspicions were confirmed from the corner of his eye, finishing his grooming as his fellow desert dweller approached on more confident limbs. Must've finally spotted him - over time he'd come to learn that while Nakhtmin's night sight was not quite as good as his, but good enough especially given movement. Sometimes he harassed the bovid about it, other times, like tonight, he just made sure his movements were a bit more exaggerated so as to be spotted.

An intruder, he said -- Osiris chuffed a soft laugh.

There is time yet in the night for you to save us from a snacking suspect, minmin.

He flashed a grin at his former teammate, still coworker as he finally let his paw fall back to the sand. All jokes aside, he was glad the oryx found more purpose in protecting them all than Osiris ever had, and he hoped his friend knew if the alarm was rallied he would be there to have his back. It wasn't cowardice that kept him from his job, just the need to do something else. A lion who didn't enjoy the fight -- the failure of his family, 'sitting pretty in the palace like some whore' as Father put it.

I caught the first unawares, he purred, The rest, unfortunately for me, gave quite the chase. Pesky things, but I respect the spirit. I only wish they were more than a mouthful.

Nakhtmin's ears swiveled back and his nostrils flared, and he replied sourly, Minmin is not a suitable title for a great warrior, dear Ossie-wossie. The stamp of a hoof might imply anger, but there was exaggeration in it to imply more mock-battle than true challenge.

Though he lacked the sharpness of tongue boasted by some others at court (his sharpness was in his spears!), he had the benefit of practice in these spars with Osiris. And more importantly, time to pre-plan a set of increasingly embarrassing nicknames to retort with, if needed.

Mighty Nakhtmin would suit me better. Or, the Sweet Smelling and Fresh Bloodied, hmm, this has a nice ring to it. A grin.

Head tilting toward the fishbones, a laugh followed, They will tell stories for generations of your slaughter. You shall live on in legends, I am sure.