As dangerous as a trait as it could be, Khepri was in possession of a curiosity that she found herself chasing often and he cirque had only taken that small flame to build a bonfire with it. In her short time here, Khepri had seen many things that she had only heard of for centuries and yet somehow it always continued to surprise her.
This evening, she was chasing something far more mundane though it was no less interesting. Khepri hadn’t lied when she had said she had little experience with alcohol. In years past, the majority of what she had in her possession was offered to the gods and though her worship had diminished over the years, she would still leave offerings to appease those gods who had held much power to her in her early years.
The air seemed warmer tonight than it had before, or perhaps she was finally adjusting to it. Since they had arrived, her usually thin wardrobe had doubled in layers and fabric in the attempt to help her keep whatever heat she had. Her body loses heat far too quickly in cold places like this, leaving her weak and generally unhappy, so she had come to prepare for the times they crossed into chillier lands with a wardrobe that allowed her to function.
In her gloved hands she carried a carefully wrapped scroll that was only a few years younger than she was. There were few things she had kept on her person over the years, as material possessions had very little impact on her. The majority of the items she had collected over the years still lay undisturbed in a cavernous chamber she had tug out in one of the smaller known tombs of an ancient royal line, deep and dark. The few things she took with her, she used for bartering if it was necessary. The scroll in hand was an important one, but she had acquired two copies of it and could certainly stand to spare one. The fact that she was willing to hand it over to a relative stranger simply for a small glass of distilled grain and orange juice would have any Egyptologists she had met when the interest first struck in the 1800s rolling in their graves.
Turning the corner, she spotted a small table laid out with glasses of various sizes and a man already drinking. “For you,” Khepri stated once she was within an arms’ length and she held the scroll out between them in offering. “You picked a good night.” If it had been any cooler, she likely would not have come, instead remaining safely and happily beneath a heat lamp. “It is warmer than it has been. Brighter too.”