Osiris was a simple man; he obeyed his orders, he was devout in his prayers to the Gods, he tended every whim of his Lady, and thus he lived a good life. He did not reach for things not meant for him, only eyed the glittering world of jewels and comfort with envy best left from the minds of mere servants. Contradictorily, he felt both out of place in this wealthy world those like him kept moving smoothly and as if he belonged in it's bustle and hardships. He'd always known growing up and training that the things his father expected from him just didn't match him, but Divine Toula helped him fit into a better path. He was happy now simply helping the sweet Princess -Goddess in training- grow up. He was happy to keep her smiling, keep her pelt soft and her bed warm, keep her stomach full and thirst satiated. Whatever she needed, he was there to procure or entertain or simply to fill the silence.

Osiris was a simple man, but like anyone else, he longed still for more. Like so many others, he willed away such fanciful dreams.

Where the Amiirad waltzed, Osiris skipped behind; a melodic, brilliant shadow in her wake, always. A soft hum lilted in his throat, quieted only as the shout of the guard rang true. Osiris moved loosely to stand a little closer to the princess, his expected role of protector never truly forgotten... but for naught. It was not a stranger the Divine party approached, but someone known to the young Pharaoh of his own Divine One's creation. Hearing the good news, seeing madam Toula and little Satiset so brightened, made his heart soar; would they go, then, to visit this Satriya? Spreading the might of the royal family could only mean celebration was in order, no? He would be sure to keep an eye out for any such special things like gifts or items that might be turned into baubles to litter the royals pelts. Perhaps even, depending how far they were from these new divine lands, keeping an eye out for some special piece of prey they might be thanked for bringing along.

The lions tail curled high in pleasure, tip flicking once, and though he didn't dare comment aloud a happy little chuff left him and the song returned to his throat.