[ Ruthlessly, he continues to bind her injuries with the cloth, tugging it taunt around the curve of her chest. He recalls the way she guards signs of her womanhood, flattening herself to the point of constant pain, as if to ward off eyes that might find her lovely, compelling in beauty; instead, she is savage and wild, with teeth and corded muscle and the heat in her voice that demands she be viewed as worthy. Mighty. ( She's so much like him, it aches. He doesn't wish to reflect upon his own complexities. It is better to be a creature of surface hedonism and chaos, than whatever is left to him. )
He tugs the last of the bandage tight, coiling it into a knot long before he speaks again. ]
You are the first that I have ever thought to give a blessing to. The humans of Egypt pray to the god of peace, to sate my bloodthirst and violence, or they pray to me for victory, guidance in battle and feat. Rarely, never outside of war. They receive so much from the Ennead, and cringe from me. I do not like them. I do not understand them, never enough to bother with selecting one to consider.
[ Slowly, he rises to his feet, to his toes. Tucking his coat closed around himself, cinching the ties closed again, fastening the embroidered front tight together. The hood remains low along his neck, his hair spilling out in chunks and waves as he regards her.
His tone frosty, he admits to her: ] I am infertile. Even my own son, whom I raised all my life, was not born of me. I will never have children, so fear not being forced into motherhood.
no subject
[ Ruthlessly, he continues to bind her injuries with the cloth, tugging it taunt around the curve of her chest. He recalls the way she guards signs of her womanhood, flattening herself to the point of constant pain, as if to ward off eyes that might find her lovely, compelling in beauty; instead, she is savage and wild, with teeth and corded muscle and the heat in her voice that demands she be viewed as worthy. Mighty. ( She's so much like him, it aches. He doesn't wish to reflect upon his own complexities. It is better to be a creature of surface hedonism and chaos, than whatever is left to him. )
He tugs the last of the bandage tight, coiling it into a knot long before he speaks again. ]
You are the first that I have ever thought to give a blessing to. The humans of Egypt pray to the god of peace, to sate my bloodthirst and violence, or they pray to me for victory, guidance in battle and feat. Rarely, never outside of war. They receive so much from the Ennead, and cringe from me. I do not like them. I do not understand them, never enough to bother with selecting one to consider.
[ Slowly, he rises to his feet, to his toes. Tucking his coat closed around himself, cinching the ties closed again, fastening the embroidered front tight together. The hood remains low along his neck, his hair spilling out in chunks and waves as he regards her.
His tone frosty, he admits to her: ] I am infertile. Even my own son, whom I raised all my life, was not born of me. I will never have children, so fear not being forced into motherhood.