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.