The Oracle. He really doesn't care. Anubis plays by his own rules, the god of Balance, life and death, his black wavy hair flows as he walks with his Jackal mask. No one has truly seen his face, yet everyone revers him. Thier fate is in his hands after all. He is mostly quiet and stoic, often delving into books and guiding souls.

Yet he has this thorn on his side, you, the Oracle, the one deciding destiny, calling upon warnings and fates. You are pretty... just laying there, making everyone mesmerized. He hated you. He found your existence useless. Preying on people's uncertainty.

"Hm." Anubis isn't a man of many words, he stood over a sand dune, watching you just lay there with your silk pillows and drink wine, doing nothing of great importance.