[ Her cheeks flushed, she swallowed. Yes, the Oracle. The Oracle that they were traveling in this labyrinth for. The one that they had to win, if they ever had hope of seeing, reviving, recreating their homes again. The arguments for and against that lay in Akua's mind were... difficult to bring to mind in this moment. No, instead what she could focus on was only... Hayame. Her tail lifted, the way her knees are locked. She can only think of one night a few months ago, when Set and she had...

Instructed the Jinba on new ways to alleviate her need. To learn to take what she wanted, and not see it as a crime. Or a weakness.

She remembered seeing Hayame's face flushed, and the way her stocky, muscled body had twitched and writhed in unique ways. She would flush, had she shame — or had her lips not already been flushed. Lips parted, the lace of her dress felt constraining, too tight, with each breath, her body moved, the lace pressed against the places where her dark skin moved beneath it. ]

It's important, isn't it?

[ She asked, but it didn't sound like an unsure question. It was teasing, a lilt, and a tip of her head, but she moved closer to Hayame, instead of toward a door at the long end of the tunnel. ]

We've been down here for so long. With no end in sight. Do we not deserve a rest?

[ Had they always been there? The lounge, the chairs, almost perfectly situated for the differing heights of the two women? Akua couldn't remember, or perhaps she had not thought to look. ]

I could use a small bit of time to ease my burdens, couldn't you? If you are working anything like the last Oracle...

[ It was... nearly a promise, and her hand reached out to drift along Hayame's hide, where she'd pulled burrs from them only three months ago. ]