With the last hieroglyph finished, Wati set aside the scroll he had been working on. He closed The Book of the Dead and ran his hands along the cover. Despite the fact he wrote these words on a regular basis, never had it been so hard. Ra had long since disappeared for his usual voyage, and the wick of his lamp was nearly burnt to the end. As the flame died its orange glow was replaced by the ghostly light of the moon filtering through the linens that covered the windows and door of his small hut.
On either side of the doorway, stood the shadows of two pots. It had been many days since Tiankhit had left him, but still the barley continued to
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Release me from this skin
Bite into me with your fangs
I beg of you my alpha free me from this
With white hot pain free me with your lips
Let my blood flow
Enough with this pale shadow
She's Screaming within me
Bones shifting and flesh tearing
Destroying me from within
Let my blood flow
Let body, spirit, and soul live
Live as one
Let the sweet agony of change take me
If I survive, let me stand as her
Let my blood flow
Enough with these scars being cut from within
Let her out
Let her run through the night
Let our disjointed hearts beat as one
Let my blood flow
As your saliva courses through my heart like fire
As my spine