Shahrazad had been with them for some time, herself and her guardian staying near but not within the throng of the heard save when it suited the Teke. Rigel made some notions of their welcome at first, but they were guests worthy of the term. Respectful, not under foot, not intrusive - it even delighted him to speak to Shahrazad of those who gathered around them, even if what he knew was little. She was so full of stories as to make his own long-winded self wonder what he might do at all to impress her or earn the awe she’d offered in meeting him.

How strange to feel inadequate when one had always felt passably adequate before.

His brother had come to him, telling him of the situation of Eness and Sakhmet and himself and now Rigel thinks on it as though he truly only had a heart pretending to be a soul. What if the soul he needed was already whole? What would that mean? What did one do to find someone already fulfilled in all things but heart?

He shakes himself as he walks, spotting Shahrazad on her contemplative walkabout. He might have turned aside any other time, given her the room she needed to think - but it smacked so much of soullessness that he defied the compulsion and made a point to indulge his heart the better. Sayyida, new though she was to it, was Voice of Wosret and she decreed him capable of being Sewn. Who was he to doubt the goddess speaking through her?

His soulless heart did rather hope to think so.

"My lady, would your guardian find it imprudent for me to walk with you?" He does not know the ways of this Teke, if he subscribed to the ways of the kingdoms he knew or not. "I swear on my honor I mean only chaste companionship and I will keep to a distance he will approve." He smiles to her, extending a muzzle to her with a regal arc to his neck and a subtle poise of his stance and tail. Chaste, perhaps, but he had affection for the young girl who might also enjoy his company.