The cinnamon vixen lost everything in the past, over and over. She restarted with nothing, over and over. They took every chance to use their subtle claws, over and over. To enslave her, over and over. To bed her without her consent, over and over. Yet she learnt a little each time, kept those mental notes safe and sound. And so each painful punishment became another lesson, another chance to use the tiny fragments of venom etched into what was left of her brain, fragments that in time would unite to become what she was today. And so, what can they do now? For the bronze Goddess was the alchemist that turns loss into victory; the golden one with the golden touch. And so, regardless of the length of the road, her destination is assured. She was going to take everything from them and leave them with nothing. She was going to tie them to her, chain them, bind them, enslave them if she must but she will make sure that they will feel each blow, mentally and physically fore she was now their Pharaoh, the capo di tutti capi of the infamous Ithuriels. She was not alone now, not anymore. She had met a few of her half-siblings, a handful of them were actually, dare she say, acceptable. As the fallen God hit the ground she knew that his crown will be heavy upon her however she would not trade it for the world. She was Head of the family now, the one true Goddess that shall not only unite them but lead them to a prosperous life if they decide to follow her. It is family that wins. Always anf forever, and if her siblings had the same upbringing like her they know this was the fmaily way, they were like a bdn of thieves, chained together through loyalty. There were only cold and broken hallelujahs. Speech

Familiarity was a new sensation, although decidedly welcome. The glorious vixen from the caverns, who laid claim to shared bloodlines, she was summoning him. Gilded paws slipped easily over the landscape, muscles still sore from his fight. The short, violent altercation with the black widow in the swamps. Regardless of the pain that might radiate through his thighs and shoulders, he moved with fluid grace. Slicing through the distance like a sharpened blade, the male closed in on his sister. Mismatched gaze roved the landscape in search of her form, though he wondered if he could even recognize it yet- pick it out from a crowd. This place reeked of other wolves. Once the wraith spotted her, he slowed to an easy, meandering gait. Appraisal of her form, marred by fresh wounds. A soft hum of consideration bubbled up in his slender throat, brow quirked with intrigue. "You look like hell, Nephthys." he crooned absently, slowing to a stop a few feet away from her, daring not let his form recline upon the terra as she did so readily. There was a deviousness in her gaze, one he did not fully trust. "What is it you want from me?" straight to the point, without preamble. He did not care to have his time wasted, not when there was still so much to do. Nephthys // Ramses // Anubis // Amunet // Seker

Her mother once told her that people could grow strong enough to whisper at iron bars that hold them and see them bend out of their way, like the most crazy magic. That's what family can do, she would say: fix souls, fix brains, cure them all. Hearing her brother, Anubis, right now made the cinnamon vixen wish she could have mastered that way. The way to unite their broke family once more. But it is hard when she had been starving for so long and only recently, when she gave birth, became familiar with the terminology. She would sit and call for help. She would act like there was no cage, wore a mask of coping and normality. She would rage against the bars. Yet what family makes simple, no other thing can solve. There was another escape route, yet it was one into another great pain. It was possible to be so emotionally starved that, when she was enslaved, she slipped through the bars, no longer bound but with her soul crumbling. That was her way out. What followed was endless emotional marathons on bleeding paws. She learnt how to hide the pain, how to look normal. And in the past the vixen understood why some go cold inside to escape the pain of isolation, why they let their empathy wither and die: numbness over feeling, mental anesthesia. But now, after knowing what emotional intimacy was, what a family truly was, the vixen refused to allow her family, both the Ithuriels and the Kleins, to remain broken and scattered across the Earth for a second longer. By the time Anubis approached, he rmind already settled on her words; succulent lips parting, I just came back from it. a slight amusament sparkled within her fiery orange optics, gaze locking on his own as a smile painted itself on her full lips. I came to announce you that I have defeated Ra. He is no longer the Head of the Ithuriels. she was proud of herself, after all, she was vain and the devil incarnate. Her stature radiating confidence regardless of the open wounds and crimson liquid that adorned her slender, curvaceous frame This is our time to rise, blood. Forget their Empire, fore we own them nothing and build our own. as she shifted her gaze a cold shiver of pain resonated through her body and she whinced for a second before continuing, I want to unite our family. Will you stand by me, brother? Will you let me call you family? the smile vanished for a mere second as she leaned in and attempt to brush their cheeks together in a affectionate gesture. Speech

There was a mischievous twist to her lips, something unsaid but terribly amusing. "I just came back from it." she quipped easily, and he understood her mirth. He let his lips curl upwards into a soft grin, a half laugh breezing past his lips. Indeed, she must have. her smile grew wider, and she pinned him beneath the weight of her stare. "I came to announce to you that I have defeated Ra. He is no longer the Head of the Ithuriel's." she finally announced, pride oozing from every pore. Were she any less than divinity, he might have warned her away from hubris. "This is our time to rise, blood. Forget their Empire, fore we own them nothing and build our own." she continued, adrenaline bringing forth dangerous fantasies. Were they possible? The wraith was unsure. He hadn't met the others, had not witnessed their strength nor tested their mettle. Perhaps it was madness induced by blood loss, or it was the rise of a brilliant new dawn upon their name. As she shifted her stance, he watched her eyes go hazy with a shock of pain. Ach, she ought to rest. "I want to unite our family. Will you stand by me, brother? Will you let me call you family?" her questioned rang hollow in his mind, and a thoughtful frown twisted his features. He held still as she closed the distance between them, gait made awkward by pain. Their cheeks brushed together, and he let his eyes flutter shut for a the briefest moment. Physical contact. He was hungry for it, but rarely sought it out. "I don't see why not," he sighed softly, mulling the whole thing over. Gaze fixed itself upon the ground at their feet, the trail of crimson that pattered here and there along Nephthys' path. "Come with me, let us get those wounds tended." soft vocals crooned to his sibling, beckoning her along with one crooked forepaw. There was a sheltered area not too far away, richer in plantlife and water. He would patch her up as best he could there, and wait until she was safe to move elsewhere. They could discuss anything else while they walked, and while he tended to her. Nephthys // Ramses // Anubis // Amunet // Seker

He went down. The cinnamon vixen recalled the momentum over and over again within her mind; the taste of his vital liquid upon her foreign tongue, the smell of the soil that he ended up upon, the sound of his bone breaking was like music to her ears but it was not enough. It would never be enough for him to feel even the slightest of their pain. Of all of them! Abandoned to rot like dogs, like the lesser and not mention the traumas they all must have dealt with. Her fire gaze locked on her brother, she was hopseful, hopeful for a positive response and there it was. At his wods, relief washed over her and she could not help but feel the corner of her lips curl upwards at such a glorious news. She knew there must be others out there, but for now, just for now, this was enough for her. Knowing that two of them already cared for their kin and family as much was enough for her for now. Pain was invisible, subjective and open dispute unless it is one's own pain. Aches are worse, always taken to be less then they are and hardly ever thought of without the possibility of the sufferer magnifying their woes. The vixen followed the ebon brute, her limbs not really belonging to her anymore and each step was a negotiation rather than an order. Everything hurt now as she groaned. Every damn thing. She winced to reach her brother side, brushing her shoulder into his own affectionately, We got each other, come thuner and rain. she offered with a grin of her full, ebon lips towards him, glancing over every now and then. Our strenght is growing, blood. There are more of us now. We could build a place of our own. Speech

The dark wraith made an effort to move more slowly than usual, his slender limbs pulling him along at a meandering pace. While Nephthys was larger than him, she was quite gravely wounded and needed to lessen the stress upon her body. She would need time to recover, and more herbs than he had on hand. Her muffled grunts and choked off groans spoke volumes to the pain she was in, and he made a mental note to dose her heavily with pain suppressants. That way she would be able to rest well, though it would only intensify the delusions of grandeur that tumbled readily from her jaws. The tender brush of her shoulder against his own was tolerated, though he worried for her wounds as she made the effort. "We got each other, come thunder and rain." she announced warmly, a broad grin spreading across her earthen facade. He chuckled softly, nodding his agreement. "Our strength is growing, blood. There are more of us now. We could build a place of our own." He glanced over at her, masking the concern that sought to display itself across his dark features. Perhaps he had underestimated the damage to her, she was delirious with pain. "I suppose we could, but not in this state of disarray." he mused aloud in response, lilting accent tempered with distraction. He'd left his herb stocks behind to answer her call, and he wasn't sure she would be able to make the trek in this condition. He'd have to settle her somewhere in the middle, where he could safely leave her and return with the necessary tools. "Have you considered, dear Thys, that perhaps some things are meant to stay dead?" he questioned hesitantly, returning his full attention to their conversation. "The ashes of the Sun God's empire may perhaps be best served as a grim reminder, as opposed to an ideal for which to strive." he warned cautiously, features set into a frown. Nephthys // Ramses // Anubis // Amunet // Seker