SSWM: 285
How it was that these filthy base creatures had survived so long still surprised Enkiel. He was bred of higher stock, those his family had squandered the teachings of such. Their whore-mother had all but forgotten her purpose when Samael had left, and he resented her for such a thing. He too resented his siblings for disregarding the customs and the faith that had been bred in them. These northern lands were barbaric to him, but Egypt had become a place that no longer recognized itself. It was luck they had not been forced to travel to the Northlands, where rumors spoke of barbaric wolves that acted without any concept of dignity.
These men were not much different, though his uncle had reassured Enkiel that not all were like the ones he had encountered. Gabriel had never spoken to him directly, but even the way his gruff uncle had behaved settled the small man’s worries. Hopefully there would be someone capable of proving such a theory correct.
An odd name, but one that did not matter outside of identity. Enkiel’s eyes did not betray him; for this he was glad. He had no patience for the squabbling of an old man who could not take care of himself. The jackal only regarded him with that same expressionless gaze, though his whiskers curled up as he scented the air—masking that he was scenting for the sharp tang of fear-scent, which would have told him otherwise. “Then you suffer needlessly,” the jackal said. He drew a small glass jar from his bag, filled with a mass of black seeds. “One of these will ease your body. If you wish to sleep, I will give you more.”
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OOC Ending
Enkiel gives Kesho enough poppy seeds to put him to sleep, sends him home, and then leaves.