Death comes to us all...

The golden touched goddess had made her home in a small oasis in the west. The child she had taken in was told to keep up. She would not accept being tired as an answer as to why he couldn't. The faster they moved the sooner they would get there is what she had told him. There would be plenty of time for rest when they got there in the morning. For now she kept the north star to her right and her pace a light trot. With nightfall the sands still remained hot but less so than during the day. And with a cooler wind from the north the heat of the desert was a little less so and it was an odd thing to her.

She rounded the top of a dune easily and then stopped to peer back for the child, only to begin moving again. She'd seen the Male on an opposite ridge but he was of little interest to the goddess. "تعال يا طفل ، لدينا الكثير لتغطيته." The Arabic tongue was native to the Egyptian woman though she knew the boy would likely not know it yet. For his benefit she spoke with her heavily accented english. "Come child, we've much ground to cover still." he would learn one day to speak the language of the desert fluently. For now though she stuck to teaching him by speaking what she wanted then translating for him. She took a moment to glance to the northern star her bearings much better than that of the Male likely. She was raised in a desert, so therefore she knew the best ways to survive and how to stay straight. Her pace picked up once more and to the Male she may very well appear a mirage, but she was real enough. The best part of a desert, scents tended to blow away with the next sandstorm. She would be a ghost to any that came looking for the boy. For his mother to have been slaughtered meant something was likely after the boy. The Male was otherwise ignored by the woman.