let the children have their way
“RAAAAAAAAAAR!” Sekhmet roared from her position on top of Rohmarr's bunk, her arms raised and her fingers curled into claw shapes. The guards roared, too – with laughter.

“Are you a lion, Kem?” One of them – Ellen – asked her, with an indulgent smile.

“Rah rah rah!” The little girl dropped to all fours, pounced on her pillow, and pretended to attack it. The guards all grinned like proud parents.

There had been no objections when Rohmarr had asked to keep Sekhmet temporarily in the barracks while he searched for a more appropriate accommodation. Indeed, since she'd moved in, their dorm had become the popular social ground while the other guards popped by to 'check up on the little tyke'. There was never a shortage of volunteers to take care of her when Rohmarr had to work or go out somewhere, as he had today. All five of the off-duty guards – three men, two women – were in the dorm with her now, waiting for her adopted father to come home. Ellen stood up, went over to the bed, and scooped the popular four year-old up into her arms.

“Did you tell that pillow who's boss?” She cooed, tickling her young charge on the belly. Sekhmet shrieked and writhed in her arms.

“Nooooo!” The little girl replied, batting at Ellen's hands with her own in a rather feline-esque fashion. “Rah-mah!”

She shifted in Ellen's arms so that her head was hanging upside-down over the side, in time to see Rohmarr in the doorway.

“Rah-mah!” She shouted over the tickling. “Fight!”

It was a standard greeting from Sekhmet.

let the children play.