She calls to him, her Pharoah. A howl which would carry through the heated air past miles of golden rolling sand which she ran. She would return to him, to her great empire that was Satriya, in time, for she had not far to go now.

When she did come, it would be with the gathering of her people, readying themselves for travel. She would pass them by, offering a smile to any who drew near to her, though her path would lead her straight to Khaemwaset.

Pharoah... Her front half lowering before him in bow. Her sea and sun eyes dancing briefly over the features of his face to take note of recent scars there. She wonders what happen, but does not ask. He would tell if he felt the need.