The other drew close in an instant though her strides had been slow; Beltane's breath had grown ragged with anticipation, a wildness in her bones that sought to drive her far away yet she steeled herself against the onslaught of darkness. She had not been born to be savage though her body had grown strong, a fact she often overlooked and yet now, she allowed her fur to rise, her shoulders to hunch ever so slightl to give her the image of strength. Yet, she did not desire to fight - it would be a waste. She had no intentions to spit in the face of fate, after all.

The other seemed to hold back too and for a moment, Beltane's paws rocked back and forth, daring her to run. But the woman's words had struck her to a pause, her entire body seizing up before a low laugh rumbled in her throat like a growl. Her eyes rose slowly to meet the blue of the stranger's, her head slowly tilting. "Sister to the dead, yes, sister to the dead you claim as yours." But he was mine first. She remembered the woman well though she had been but a child then; who could forget, after all? Not Beltane, no, who had never felt anything like that day before or since. It had stayed in her very bones.

The tension was thick, like the coming of a storm and she felt her toes flex against the leaf and dirt beneath her as Sekhmet drew away. Beltane's good ear had rocked forward, peeling away from her skull as she watched the other closely, her head still low as she breathed in deeply. "The woman doesn't know, hm?" Her head jerked to its other axis, her blackened lips turned up into a broad, toothed grin. "Dead, he is, but he still speaks. The balance was wrong, so wrong. That's what took him." Her eyes narrowed, suspicious suddenly, as her lip twitched and her legs quivered momentarily beneath her. This woman had not taken him, no, certainly not but who? "Does he speak to you, hm?" There was accusation in her voice, her eyes suddenly wide and probing as she took a step forward. Well? She needed to know before she dared to let Thoth whisper to her.