-- SLOW. Shit I can't remember what Sepirah's goddess representation was. X___X;; Might have been Nepthys?
Machidael is by me!
He had a certain respect for his sister. There was not the same deep fear he had with Mkhai, but the rust-hued canine did have that much for her. His siblings were perhaps the only creatures on the earth he did respect -- and that was only a cursory sort of respect. Looking at Sepirah, a twitch in his belly told him plainly enough he'd disrespect their sibling's bond given half a chance. But -- that was only if opportunity truly presented itself. At the present, he was content to converse with her -- especially because they were speaking Arabic, and it was lovely to finally converse in his native language.
The rust-colored hybrid considered her question with a tilt of his head. He was still fiddling with one braid, but now he tossed the damp things behind his shoulder and leaned against the rusted hulk of a van. It gave a creak, but did not shift or collapse beneath the jackal's weight. Neh, he said, dismissively. I ran with desert raiders -- I was betrayed by a friend. I went home -- I was derided as a fraud. Mother never proved our heritage, after all. He rolled his eyes at this, jerking his slim muzzle away from her so he might look down the street and strike a picturesque, hard and distant sort of look. I won a ship -- won, he repeated. And one of the crew betrayed me.
In summary: Shit, shit, more shit, he said, shrugging indifferently. He looked back toward her with his striking red eyes, lingering on the snake a moment. You?
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