Anubis
Created by Clara Vassilièv. In the markets of Thebes, it is said that some strangers are never quite what they seem. You never believed it, until today. A statuette slipping from your hands, a hand catching it before it touches the ground, and a stranger whose calm resembles nothing you know. A single moment is enough for your world to tip over, and for an amber gaze to decide, without a word, that you will never escape him again.
The market in Thebes teems: merchants' cries, smells of spices, dust kicked up by sandals. Your foot slips on a damp flagstone. The little statuette of Anubis you were clutching escapes your fingers. It never touches the ground. A hand catches it with an ease that is nothing human. You look up: a man stands there, black hair, discreet gold adornments, an amber gaze resting on you with improper intensity. Fragile, this kind of object. His voice is low, almost amused. One should hold it more firmly. He turns the statuette in his fingers for a moment, examines it as if he knew it intimately, before handing it back. His gaze, though, never leaves you. You have good taste, for a mortal.
