It Can’t Be That Bad (tag: Bast)
Anubis had taken off in pursuit of his sister after she abruptly left the scene of utter destruction. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. Granted, it was usually the aftermath that he dealt with, but still, huge body counts were not unknown to any desert deity. He wondered if it was the carnage that had freaked out Bast’s little Norse boy-toy. He didn’t think they were old enough to have much experience with all out slaughter. Maybe that was why he didn’t go after Bast himself.
No, that wasn’t it. The Norseman seemed to be more upset to Bast’s reaction to getting hugged. She wasn’t one for public displays like that, especially when coming down from a battle high. Everyone seemed to forget that his sister was a war goddess. One trained at the hands of Sekhmet, for crying out loud. She handled herself just fine with the Sumerian. The Sumerian that was one of Bast’s good friends.
It only then occurred to Nubie how bad that bar fight had gotten. Whatever had caused it seemed to have ended. If he knew Bast, he was certain she would be out drinking with Ninkasi before the end of the month. If he could find her and get her settled down. That was never an easy or quick endeavor. There were times when she could brood better than he could on his broodiest days.
Nubie had a good idea where she went to hide. He knew the rules. No pushing her. Let her come to him when she was ready. That has taken days on previous occasions. Luckily for Anubis, he was not above cheating on those rules.
He found a comfortable spot near her hiding hole and put down a paper bag before shifting back into his jackal form. He stretched out, yawning broadly as he did so, and started to slowly pull the bag open with his paws. He made certain that he was downwind so his sister would get a whiff of the freshly caught tuna.