The march through fire had spent him. He felt it in the fatigue of his shoulders, the pull of his arms. Heat radiated even now, though the sun had abated behind a pall of gray cloud. It was a quiet testament to Peseshet that she'd endured beside him. To a shallow loch he led her, where he cast down the vultures and stooped to drink, eyes bidding the same of the raven-woman.
“Bathe your feet,” his chin raised, dribbling next in a summon for servants to take the vulture hens.
“You will meet Pharaoh Khaemwaset now. Be humble. If he offers you a place in his kingdom, you will give thanks to His Royal Highness for every day that you serve him.”

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just getting this in my threadlog! <3

hunting, the pastime for nobility and those royal alike. khaemwaset had his focus upon herons and a brace of the ashen hares which hopped through the foggy woodlands. pursuits here were different and almost more treacherous, but he was learning. each day pharaoh challenged himself to new aim, and each day he felt rewarded for the honest effort.
sapair was returned. black ears lifted, and as khaemwaset saw the figures of fellahin on focused walk in that direction, he himself followed at a saunter, curious and pleased by the day thus far.