The Forgotten God
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Shu was not the most patient in times of stress, pacing some inches over Atum's plush carpet, to and fro, chewing his lower lip.
"Calm yourself," Atum took a sip of dry wine, liquid courage he called it, although perhaps at times it was liquid foolishness. "Why stress yourself when you have done all you can?"
"I know, I know," Shu stopped and dropped down, sinking onto the nearest chair. "Why worry about what you have no control over?" He gave a bitter laugh. "No control, what a thing for a God!"
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