“Not a man I don't know,” Seshat protested as her sister dragged her through the crowd. Her hip bumped something that wasn't hard enough to be a table, but probably another person. All she had time to do was mumble an apology before Taweret's inevitable forward motion pulled her away. Wherever they were going, it was much closer to the young baker who was doing very unsanitary things with his batter.
Oh it was a table.
With Ereshkigal.
Truthfully, Seshat wasn't certain the Sumerian was a good influence on her sister. They seemed to egg one another on, like school-children. But there was no chance of separating them, since Taweret wedged herself between Ereshkigal and Ninkasi. With a polite smile at Ninkasi, she took the chair on her other side, as far from Ereshkigal as she could get.
“I hope there was no actual urination involved,” she told Ninkasi apologetically, “and that it's just an analogy. Are we interrupting? I'm sorry. I had no idea we were joining you.”