Last of Anubis, Ch. 1
by fallenwolfe
Chapter One: Child of Anubis
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Scraping sands shifted across the salt crusted, rocky terrain. The sun beat down mercilessly upon the scorched dessert valley. A flock of raptors, grey leathery, sharp taloned predators, circled the sky, their piercing screeches shot through the rising heat waves, waking the near dead jackal-soldier from his half-life stupor.
He pined and sat up, painfully rubbing away the crust that had sealed his eyes shut. A raptor shrieked and dove. Instinctively he rolled under a shadowed overhang created by a fallen chunk of sandstone at the base of the bone-dry mountain range. The raptor gouged out chunks of dirt and rocks, barely missing the soldier as he pulled himslef as far into the hollow as he could manage. His ears started to bleed as the angry predator let off a piercing screech of defeat and re-joined its flock, circling, waiting for him to fall into their clutches.
The soldiers whimpered and rubbed the already dried blood from his sensitive, velvety black, ears. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, trying to make sense of what was going on. His survival training automatically assumed command of his thoughts and he mentally took stock of his health.
His once sleek, black fur had become long, tangled, and matted, in some places with blood. His claws were flaking and cracked, and the pads of his palms and paws were not much better. He ran his tongue across his once gleaming white fangs, he felt rough buildups of sand and dried spit, and his tongue produced no saliva. He was definitely malnourished and fatally dehydrated. Food could wait, but he must find water.
Silently, painfully, he waited. For hours he lay, his raggedly thin arms folded across his chest. He wanted to just left the drifting, hazy weariness take him, to let him float on the clouds of dreams, but he forced himself awake. He was a soldier of Anubis, he could not die, his lord and master was a god of the underworld, but something was wrong. The longer he waited, the more he felt it, something had shifted. Just as the raptors sensed it, so to could he feel his own vunerability. How had he become this weak, this mortal, something must be gravely amiss.
The longer and harder he pondered the more it slipped away, he could remember nothing of the recent past. He tried until the sun had set and the raptors fled from the graceful white moon, and the pursuing cold. He shoved the thoughts and ponderings to the back of his mind, his master’s protection was failing and only one thing mattered now, survival.
Stiffly, rolled from under his hiding place, the raptors had gone, he stood up and he could feel his bones cracking and his muscles pulling. He waited a while and the moon’s luminous glow restored some of his strength. Some, but it was only a fraction of what he needed. He looked down at his black arms and chest, concerned doubt wormed its way into his thoughts. The long matted fur kept him warm, but it obscured the magically inscribed, golden tatoos of his standing, and he knew, even if they were not obscured, they would only shine faintly and sporadically, something was indeed wrong. Again he forced those thoughts to the back of his mind and bit his lip to clear his mind and focus on his next task, water.
As sore and tired as he was, he forced himself to move. One step after the other, until he could hold a marching pace. He restrained from running, although it would warm him it would also consume far too much of the precious body fluids that he needed in order to remain functioning. He closed his eyes and concentrated his mind on his nose. It too was dried and cracked, the blood veins had long since dried and custed over but he could still catch the faint waft of deep, invigorating rain-water. It was far away, and barely noticable, but it was there, without opening his eyes he turned and aligned himself with the scent, then opened them and started walking.
He was headed into the dunes. They were mountais of sand, piled hundreds of feet high, they moved and shifted whenever the wind changed course or increased its strength. He was soon disoriented, unable to tell one dune from the next, or the last three, but his nose kept him straight, there was water out there somewhere, and he was getting closer. He knew not how long he had been asleep, or half dead, or whatever he was, nor did he know how long he walked in and up and around those moonlit dunes, but he did know he found water.
The scent was so overpowering he wasn’t sure if could already be drowning, he forced his mind awake, delerium would be fatal now. He knew the source of water was close, but so was the sunrise. He could feel the heat rising on his back and his strength was waning by the minute. Suddenly the sand dunes faded away and the ground beneath his scorched, cracked paws, hardened into the crusted, rocky ground of another dessert mountain range.
He traveled into the mountains, following miniscule animal tracks and faded prints. Not long after the sun had reached its zenith he reached the end of a broad valley that split into a multitude of interwining, twisted pathways leading in every imaginable direction. Unsure he closed his eyes and again focused on the scent of water. It was so near he could almost see the smell in his mind as a bright blue trail of fog. He kept that image in his mind and opened his eyes, then followed it through a path so narrow he was afraid he might not fit. After one last, painfully tight squeeze. He found himself in a paradise.
Before him was a large, nearly cavern-like space that was enclosed on all sides by the mountain walls. From the peaks of these walls flowed scintilating streams of water, trapped by the high peaks, that flowed down and joined to form a single river of water that fell from a high ledge and poured down into the clearing and formed a large, riplling lake. Over the years something had scraped at the rock until it formed a soil and small bushes grew around the area. But the soldier had tucked that inconsistency to the back of his mind. With the last dregs of energy he posessed he stumbled to the edge of the lake and, abandoning all caution and sense, dunked his entire muzzled head into the clear water.
He drank and drank, he tried to lap up ever last drop of water until he could no longer breathe. With a gasp he pulled his head from the lake and sat back on his haunches. However his stomach was far too malnourished and he turned and vomitted the water onto a nearbye bush. His mind cleared and stomach empty, he knelt at the edge again and , this time more cautiously, took small sips of the life-giving liquid until his mouth sarted producing saliva and his sore, sensitive nose was once again cold and wet as it should be. With water in his system he could concentrate on sating his hunger. He managed to stand up and looked around. Some small lizards bathed in the patches of sunlight, but he knew he was in no condition to catch them, then he noticed the bushes.
On the bushes grew dull, grey-green-blue berries, but some of them also had mishapen clumps of growth near their centers. As he looked closer the dog-soldier saw that these were not growths but nests, and in them sat large birds, birds with miniscule wings that could not possibly fly away. As quietly as he could manage he crept up to the nearest bush and gently pushed his clawed hands toward the nest. He figured the bird must be either slow-witted, sleeping, or both, because the closer he got, it still showed no reaction to his intrusion, until he grabbed it and snapped its neck, then it gave a twitch and lay dead.
His eyes gleamed at the thought of fresh meat and the warm, sweet taste of dripping blood. He tore the bird apart and ate as much meet as he could without getting any feathers stuck in his throat. The dripping blood and sweet meat intoxicated him into a bloodlust. He tore two more of the helpless birds from their nests and devoured them before his emaciated stomach was satisfied. Then he took one last drink and fell asleep next to edge of the lake, listening to the soothing roar of the distant waterfall.
He slept and dreamt of peaceful lakes and flightless birds, of the soft rush gardens of his beloved manor house in Egypt, of his beautiful wife and daughter. But the dry soreness awoke him, his mouth was again parched and his nose cracked, although now blood leaked from the sore tissue, it hurt but he knew it was a good sign. He rolled over and took a sip from the lake, then slowly sat up. He did not know how long he slept but he was hungry, starving. With his strength partially restored he managed to grab five more of the flightless birds. He decided to call them ‘pudgies’, the name amused him and his tongue lolled out of his blood-stained muzzle as he yawned and lay down next to the lake and once again fell asleep.
“At’tu…” the whisper echoed like a dying wind through the calm darkness of the soldier’s sleep. At’tu…” he felt his mind enter the realm of dreams, in which he found himself in a majestic bedroom. “At’tu…hear my call…” He looked around, he was in the royal chambers, the same room he often stood guard over. A statue of a black dog lay on a pedastal at the corner of a grand, four poster bed lined with silken sheets. He tried to feel the sheets but his body would not respond, instead the voce whispered again, deep and commanding, yet faint, “At’tu…my strength is failing…come to me…”
The jackal-soldier looked to where the voice emanated from, and saw only a reflection of eye-whites illuminated by glowing magic charm heiroglyphs. “Who calls for me?” he may not be able to control his movements but at least he could control his voice.
The heiroglyphs flickered and dimmed, then weakly brightened, “You now who calls At’tu, I am your father and protector, hearken unto me…”
At’tu willed his body to obey, and thankfully it did, he dropped to one knee, his hands held at his sides, his black muzzle pointed to the floor, “Anubis, forgive me my lord.”
Anubis spoke again, weaker this time, “You must listen, I am weak, my power is failing, you have been asleap for many years, preserved by the last of my strenght, all that you once knew is lost and dead. The war ended with unfavorable results, I used that last of my strength to protect what remained of my children and followers,” the voice broke off as the magic glyphs faded then glowed, dimmer than before and At’tu had to strain his ears to catch his master’s words, “We were betrayed, and in my weakened state I could do naught but watch as our people were slaughtered, helpless without my strength to contend with the traitor’s magic. My people, my children, they lost hope, and wihtout their will to fuel my purpose I started to fade, you are the last free child of your race. You must travel to the ruins of my temple and retrieve my treasure, with it you can restore the people’s hope. I will guide you when and if I can, and for your hope….know that your daughter yet lives…..farewell….the last of Anubis…”
With that the shadows shifted and the glyphs disappeared completely. At’tu laid his dreamer-self onto the massive bed and fell back into the comforting darkness of a dreamless sleap, until he was awoken by a loud shout and a sharp pain in his back. At’tu opened his eyes and rolled over, only to grunt in pain and lose his breath as the butt end of a spear was thrust into his abdomen.
Above the jackal stood a yellow and white spotted feline, his chest was bare and he was garbed in a simple white skirt. The cat stood above him, scowling, and spun the haft of his weapon so that a gleaming silver blade pointed at the jackal’s throat.
The cat hissed at spat out strange words, “Shazem! Shazem! Anach amenos sylph!”
At’tu did not respond and this seemed to anger the leopard, who shouted more strange words and thrust his spear in for the kill, until a commanding, feminine voce called out, “Mahtem!”
The spearpoint stopped just short of the jackal’s throat as the leopard looked over his shoulder. At’tu immediately took advantage of the distraction. With a snarl he grabbed the haft of the spear and swept his leg behind the leopard’s heel. Unprepared, the feline let out a hiss as the spear was yanked from his grasp and he was swept off balance and into the lake. At’tu followed closely behind as he rolled to his feet and placed himself behind the leopard with his back to the deepening edge of the lake.
He held the spear at the ready as three more, nearly identical leaopards joined the first, who now stood dripping wet, weaponless and infuriated. At’tu waited for his opponents to make the first move, and they did. As one, the four of them rushed him. Disuse and fatigue caused his body to react slowly, and his legs were still weak from walking, the first cat easily stepped asside as he lunged with the spear and tackled him into the water. The cat hissed and raked his sharp claws across At’tu’s muzzle, leaving deep gashes of dripping blood. At’tu howled and clamped his jaws on the cat’s wrist as he came in for another swing. The jackal forced his jaws tight and snarled in satisfaction at the sound of breaking bone, along with the sweet taste of blood and the feline’s yowel of pain.
Holding his wrist and hissing in pain the leopard retreated as the others surrounded At’tu, they looked to each other and nodded. At’tu remained on his back as the three cats cautiously approached, devoid of the strenth even to stand, At’tu simply waited for the inevitable.
The three raised their spears and the commanding female stopped them, “Mahtem! Erin nacs anhes setah!” They looked at each other and lowered their spears, puzzled. At’tu did not resist as they roughly yanked him to his feet and bound his wrists behind his back with a tight piece of cloth, then shoved him to the shore, were he fell to his knees. He looked up and above him stood a sensually lithe, white and black leopardess, garbed in tightly fitting, light leather armor.
“Alle manem anach! Mathum anhes manem?”
At’tu just glared into her green-slitted eyes and growled.
One of the cats behind him backhanded At’tu and snarled, “Tsa, erin nacs anhes setah, erin nacs anhes sanach!” The ohters burst into laughter, poking him with their spears and when he didn’t respond they laughed harder until the female slashed her claws through the air and shouted, “Mahtem!” She turned to At’tu and gazed impassively at him with green, dark slitted eyes.
She growled something he did not understand and wearily shook his head, “I do not answer to you.” his voice was weak but the leopardess stepped back and hissed as she pulled an amulet of protection from around her neck and held it to her lips. The others bared their fangs and did likewise, using hand gestures instead of amulets to ward off evil. One of them stepped cautiously away, not turning his back until he was out of lunging distance, and ran back to where his wounded bretheren had fled, a large ring of pitched tents.
At’tu quickly realized he had an advantage, and he swiftly put it to use. Shakily he stood up and staggered as he tried to regain his balance. The two remaining guards stepped forward to skewer him, with a low growl and his fiercest glare he commanded in a dangerously low but audible tone, “Stay back if you wish to live,”
The blood visibly drained from their cheeks and they stepped back a pace, not understanding his speech they looked to the female for instruction. Faster than his ears could make out she rattled off orders until the last two also backed away and headed toward the ring of tents at a swift jog. Then the female stepped forward and grabbed him by the throat, her claws threatening to pierce his jugular. At’tu met her stare with the stone cold gaze famous among the jackal commanders, finally she released him and he fell to his knees, coughing to clear his lungs and regain precious air. She knelt down and shoved her muzzle challengingly into his and spat at him shakily in his own language, “I not know what you…be…but…you no slave….I…know quick…enough….what…you are!”
With that she hauled him up by the scruff of his neck and started dragging him towards the tents until he could walk, then she pushed him in front so she could lead him with a spear she had collected on the way. As they neared the campsite he could see that it was a large trading caravan. Near their huts older panthers and leopards sat counting, weighing, and measure all sorts of materials. They had everything from gold jewelery to dried strips of meat made into a hard jerkey, but then At’tu stopped dead and stared at the largest and most colorful of the tents. Next to that tent was a large wooden cage, and in that cage were jackals. There must have been nearly twenty of them, all women and young children who were staring at a feline cub filling buckets with some sort of grey mush. The leopardess jabbed him in the back with the butt end of the spear and he reacted instantly. At’tu grasped the haft and pulled the leaopardess in so he could swipe his claws through her soft white throat. However he was still weak from exhaustion and malnutrition, and she easily caught his wrist and yanked it so that he was forced to turn around with his arm pinned painfully behind his back.
All chatter and movement stopped as the jackal was forced toward that large tent. At’tu could feel the gaze of the entire camp upon him, silent and foreboding. The leopardess did nothing to reassure the crowed and instead shoved him roughly through the flap of that tent where he stumbled to the ground, panting for breath and barely able to move. Above him he heard the leopardess exhale a deep breath and spoke softly and slowly, but At’tu did not have the strength to raise his head and discover whom. “Ahman, erin nacs anhes tym -“
The leopardess was gently cut off by an elderly voice “Zehmshi ahm, ess caefee sam tee, at hemsh erin setahn em”
To the jackal’s surprise the leopardess did not seem angry at being cut off, but merely replied, Tsa ahman” At’tu tensed as she stood over him and grasped him by the neck, then the old voice spoke again,
“dehmshi, ahm, an set anhes messah, mak anka manem tal hess an?” the leopardess grumbled something through her teeth and with a surprisingly gentle touch helped him into a sitting position. Rubbing his bloodied muzzle At’tu raised his drooping head and looked at the owner of the elderly voice and was not shocked to see a grey furred old leopardess with a striking resemblence to the younger one who now sat next to him, supporting his back with her paw.
The elder looked up as a young female jackal stepped into the tent carrying a shining silver tray on which were three steaming copper mugs. At’tu growled as she came closer, she wore nothing but a light linen skirt and around her eye faint heiroglyphs of protection could be seen that started to glow as she neared, but around her neck was a polished leather and gold collar. He knew that she was once a commander’s daughter, for his own daughter and wife recieved the same glyphs when he was promoted. The slave looked at him warily and hurried from the room after the young leopardess hit him across the back of his head and his vision turned blurry as he nearly passed out.
“Mahtem!” the voice startled At’tu back into conciousness, he looked around until he realized it was the angry snarl of the elder, who was also glaring at the younger version of herself, “Manem ta lehna, alle manem!”
Properly chided the leopardess lowered her head, “Los ahman, emhas an anhes zell!”
At that the elder shook her head and scoffed as she looked at the beaten jakal, “my daughter thinks you are evil, but I saw the look of injustice on your face when that slave girl walked in and I do not think your are evil, but what do you say?”
At’tu looked up, not sure if he had heard correctly, his throat was so dry he could barely croak, “I…can see… the resemblance” the elder chuckled at his remark and picked up her mug motioning for the other two to do the same, “go on it’s not poisoned, in fact it tastes quite good. He glanced warily at the mug before him and then at the young captor next to him, finally the thirst won out and he took a cautious sip. It was slightly bitter with a smooth creamy taste afterwards and he thought it was delicious, deciding that if it was poison there could be worse ways to go and he drained the whole mug.
The elder chuckled at his sigh of contentment, “I take it you like?”
At’tu nodded, the liquid had soothed his throat so at least he didn’t have to croak, “Yes, very much so, what is it?”
“It is a rare and expensive drink to make, we call it Kaeyfae, it is an imitation of a drink once made long ago during the time when gods walked the earth as men, it is afforded only to the most honored of guests, which brings us to the conudrum my daughter and I have been arguing about, you…”
Wearily the jackal shook his head and stared into the empty mug, “Me? I don’t even know who I am anymore, what year is this anyway?”
The elder waved her paw as if brushing away smoke, “time has no meaning in the shifting plains, but for now and by the rights of our law you are the property of my daughter, and she will answer your questions as she deems fit.”
Outraged, At’tu threw aside the cup and rose to flee until the leopardess raised the spear she held and shouted “Mahtem!”
He froze halfway to his feet with the spear blade gently pressed against his throat and muttered something under her breath. Her mother chuckled, “my daughter says you learn quickly, I believe she is right, we will see soon if you are more than an average slave.” with that the leopardess glared at him and lowered the spear, making her point clear. Beaten and weak beyond resistance At’tu simply stood and followed as the leopardess nodded, “Come” and left the tent with the bloodied jackal in tow.
“At’tu you must wake, please!” At’tu stirred in his sleep not wanting to leave his wife again, but then she started speaking in a strange tongue “Shazem amenos! Manem sal shazem anach,” At’tu opened his eyes and sat up not sure if his wife’s voice had been a dream or not, he looked up in bewilderment. Leaning over him was his wife trying to rouse him awake, he sighed, it had all just been a bad dream, “Azari’tu, I just had the worst dream ever,” he stopped as he saw the shocked expression on her face and the polished collar around her neck, she recovered quickly and sadly shook her head, “manem sal tra sam tee,” he didn’t understand what she said but she motioned for him to get up, not sure if there were guards outside he decided to comply. It was not until she gave him a pile of light white cloth from a basket on her arm did he realize he was naked, but his fur had grown so long that it didn’t matter, but he wrapped it around his waist and tied it off anyway.
He noticed that it was the same slave girl that brought in the elder’s kaeyfae, he was about to ask for her name but she silenced him with a nervous shake of her head, “tra.” she motioned for him to follow as she walked out of the small tent. At’tu was surprised to find moonlight shining through the large opening above and took in a deep breath as he felt some of the tiredness melt away. He looked around and noticed that many of the tents were gone and others were being packed away, guarded by an assortments of felines wearing expensive leather armor. The slave girl nodded to a pair of guards standing outside his own tent as they fell in on either side of him and they headed towards the rippling lake.
The waterfall did not seem as strong as it was when he arrived but At’tu did not have time to ponder as the girl stopped and placed the basket on the ground near the edge of the water.
“Etna fell tsimarin, anach amenos!” her voice was harsh and cold, he glanced at her, not sure what to do and she grabbed his schenti and pulled it off, sending him into the water with a viscious kick at the same time, “sanach!” she hissed at the jackal pushing himself up out of the freezing water. The guards laughed as her own skirt slid down her legs and she bent over and pulled a short curved blade and a square white object from the basket. They eyed her slim and well defined form with lusty grins and one of them teased, “Mer tas kell tra fen sum tep at?” “Tsa” the other piped in coyly, “mer tym?”
The girl just wagged her finger at them and stuck out her tongue mockingly, “tserat tee sin ket ach let nam kael, manen sanach!” the guards just laughed and one unrolled a mat and they both sat down, taking turns rolling some sort of dice.
At’tu had recovered and the girl looked at him apologetically and led him farther into the lake until the water was up to his waist. She soaked the white object in the water and when she ran it over his matted fur he realized it was some sort of soap. At’tu waited for a long while before the tangled mass started to soften and she began combing through it with her claws. She combed and combed until his fur started to shine and then she pulled the knife from between her teeth. At’tu glanced at her warily but she just smiled and began slicing off long lengths of fur that fell into the water and floated away.
At’tu’s mind had wandered off and his focus was brought back to the girl as she gasped. He looked down and even in the moonlight could see a blush forming on her midnight cheeks, then he noticed that he was completely shaved and she had just finished around his noticeably large sheath. His tatoos started to glow stronger as they absorbed the moonbeams unhindered by the tangled fur, and At’tu felt strong again. He glanced over at the guards who were drinking from rounded bottles and talking loudly, he tensed as he was about to rush them but the girl felt it and stopped him with a frightened whisper,”please, don’t, there are to many, we would be punished..”
At’tu looked back at her in surprise, “why have you not spoken to me before?”
She shook her head sadly, “because our language is forgotten and forbidden, but please, let me convince you to stop.” with that she dropped the knife as she ducked underwater and started to gently lap at his sheath. At’tu let out a gasp as he realized just how long he had been without his wife.
The slave surfaced for air and looked into his golden eyes with her blazing emerald ones, “now will you stay?” her voice was soft and seductive and he could not deny his instinctive needs, “yes, I will stay.” she smiled at him and ducked back under the water. He felt her tongue pushing into his sheath and he shuddered at the wave of pleasure rolling through him, his thick cock was erect immediately and she swallowed his entire eight inch length without a problem, trying to coax his knot from its hiding place. She paused as her head broke the surface gasping for air, she grabbed the knife from where it lay and with her other hand grasped his dog meat, massaging it as she led him to shallower water. At’tu glanced at the guards again worried they might interfere, but they were still laughing away, to drunk to notice anything but their dice. He moaned as the slave brought his attention back to her. She was on her knees, deepthroating him for all he was worth, she had dropped the knife again and with one hand he massaged his still sheathed knot and the other started to play with his tailhole. At’tu groaned at her skillfull ministrations and started gently humping her face. It didn’t take long until he had her head grasped in his hands and he was violently penetrating her throat. She contracted her throat to match his violent thrusts and dug her claws through his ass cheeks. At’tu knew he wouldn’t last much longer and the rough clawing had set him over the edge, the slave girl gagged as his knot popped from his sheath and filled into her muzzle. She clamped her lips over and redoubled her sucking, then his knot bulged and filled her mouth. His entire penis swelled as he unloaded wave after wave of cum into her mouth. She swallowed three mouthfulls and had to let off and gasp for air as the rest drained over her snout and face dripping onto her taught breasts.
She moaned in ecstasy and layed on her back, fingering her soft clit in the water, the pink of her pussy was a bright contrast to her black fur and At’tu wanted to repay her the pleasure. He lay down letting the cool water soothe his penish and wash away the eccess cum as he moved her hands out of the way and started running his rough tongue along her folds. The slave girl gasped and massaged her full breasts as he held her in place, lapping up her pouring juices as they wetted his muzzle and sent his sensitive nose into a frenzy, causing his dick to spring up faster than it did earlier. At’tu didn’t hesitate as he rose over her and with one thrust impaled her up to his hilt, she let out a joyous scream and he cut it off with his own muzzle as he tried to swallow her tongue. Faster and faster he pumped into her as she responded in time to his force filled thrusts, he could feel the moon strengthening and speeding him on as his glyphs started to pulse. She rammed back into him with all she could and the water gurgled and splashed from the force of their mating. At’tu stopped as her tight walls suddenly caught his knot in a vice grip and for the second time that night pumped out wave after wave of cum into this nameless slave. With his muzzle still locked around hers, swallowing her screams, he knotted tightly and waited until the spasms died down, then he gently rolled her limp form on top of his, waiting for his swelling to subide.
It was not until he released their liplock that At’tu noticed the water around them was alight with a steady shine of golden light, reflected from his own glyphs and the young slave’s eye markings. Suddenly remembering the guards he anxiously craned his neck backwards, they were staring at the bright light with dropped jaws and glazed eyes. At’tu grew limp as one grabbed his spear and tried to rise, but fell down in a dizzy stupor, the spent jackal relaxed and sighed as a waterfall of fluids fell on his stomach from the slave’s cunt as she rolled off and lay panting next to him. They looked over at each other and smiled, she finally broke the silence with a gentle whisper, “who are you?”
At’tu looked into her emerald eyes, he knew they had bonded on more than a mere physical level, their very souls were now mated by the will of Anubis himself. He rose and helped her to her feet, sighing in contentment, ” I am At’tu the last free child of Anubis.” She gave him a puzzled look and shook it off as she pulled her skirt back on and helped him tie the leather belt of his schenti. Then collected her tools and passed the guards dozing on the mat on the way to his tent, where she left him sleeping and went to perform the rest of her chores.
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