her back still turned, her expression is unease. she'd loathe to be given anything by this fingerless beast bound in scratched gold. she'd loathe more to accept it.
imenet's arms are crossed in a self-soothing hug. her gaze travels miles across the scenery ahead of them. thrice now, he'd spoken of a single man.
pharaoh.she repeats. face turns.
is he a powerful man?
then she presses, twisting the spine.
why isn't he here, where you said his throne is? why north?
there is an odd compulsion to denigrate a king.