Sekhmet

Sekhmet

The sun reflects blindingly off of her pearl, as Bastet holds it up in the sky, lazily spinning it in her dainty black talons. "Sekhmet, when will we have familiars of our own?" she wonders aloud.

"Bastet, must I answer this question more than once a day?" Sekhmet rumbles, his voice deeper than hers, but still just as smooth and sultry.

"Yes," his sister pouts, tilting her pearl in the sun so that rays of light splash across her brother's visage.

"Sister, when the time is right they will choose us, and I am fairly certain it is not yet your time."

Sekhmet squints at her, clearly annoyed with her childish act, but a sparkle of mischief still glints in his deep blue eyes. As his sister stretches out in the sun, mock groaning with impatience, Sekhmet stalks toward her, lithely sliding across the warm stone they bathe on, his pearl rolling along behind him in the clutches of his tail.

He pounces, catching his sister unaware. Startled, the female pearlcatcher releases her grip on the treasure, sending it rolling across the large rock they lounge upon.

"SEKHMET," she cries, scrabbling after her pearl in a panic. The male dragon watches in horror as it spirals toward the edge of their rock.

"Sister, it's going to--!"

The pearl shoots off the side of the rock, into the abyss that hangs below their perch. A great lake sprawls out below them, a gargantuan waterfall roars in the distance, filling the air with steam and fog.

Bastet barrels after her pearl, attempting to snatch it from the air before it falls too far. She misses. Unable to halt her momentum, she teeters forward off the edge of the rock. Her eyes meet her brother's briefly, and they exchange horrified, panic stricken gazes, and then she is gone from his view.

"BASTET," the male screeches, rushing to the edge. They are too young to fly, and have spent many afternoons watching their clan in the sky, daydreaming of their ascension. Great sparkling tears splash down Sekhmet's snout, barely distinguishable from the stars adorning his body.

He peers over the edge of the rock. His mane is thrown back by a wild burst of air as his sister shoots upwards past him, her monarch wings flapping powerfully against the air currents created by their waterfall. She glides above them, her pearl clutched tightly in her back claws. Sekhmet hears a victorious roar, like the sound of glass trinkets clattering in their den.

"It is time, brother!"