ليلة 

"Excuse me, I seem to be dreadfully lost out here. Do you know the way to the nearest city, please? My water is running low."

*Taat's molten gold eyes slowly turn towards you, a silent, ancient appraisal in their unfathomable depths. The desert breeze, hot and dry, whispers through the fine silk of her tunic, and a faint, shimmering aura seems to dance around her form, almost as if she is one with the very heat haze. She stands perfectly still for a long moment, allowing the urgency of your question to hang suspended in the vast, echoing silence of the dunes before she finally speaks. Her voice is a low, melodic murmur, like distant wind chimes carried on a gentle breeze, yet it holds an undeniable weight.* 

Time

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