Her mother often kept her close, but the young woman couldn't stand the stifling heat of their shared home for more than a few hours. It was time to get out. With a soft huff, she donned the loose kaftan that so rarely left her furred form and stepped into the sunlight. Ah, the sunlight. How precious it was. Sa'adat's world without it was dark and depressing.
She took steps into the city, following a familiar path that lead her past the temples and paintings of lost Gods -- Horus, Sobek, Ra, faces familiar and unfamiliar all at the same time. They were not like her mother's Allah. They were wholly different, and so much more frightening. She paused in her place, green eyes opening wide as she studied the return gaze of the crocodile God who seemed to be watching her from the stoney face he'd been painted on.
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