The White Jackal Stalks the Night

Wepwawet has been silent for a long time now. It has been eerie. At first I thought it was a reflection of my attention on Hethert, her unending love filling my gaze and beckoning me forth. Then there was Nebthet, and Nit, and Hethert again followed by Sekhmet at last. Through all of that, I thought that he was giving me space to explore all of these relationships, to let them bloom in his quietude.

But he is still silent, and I realise there is more to it than that. His bronze statue of him standing upon his standard has been on my visible temporary living room shrine for a good while now, but it occurred to me that I feel little when I see it. Today, I swapped it for a statue I’ve been longing to see more of, a statue I got with a view to it possibly being his statue if I got to serve as a priest: A white stone statue of him standing, fists by his side, one foot forward and beautifully carved face proud and stern.

It fills the room now with his energy, his consort Hethert’s medallion beside him doing the same. This feels like a shift in how Wep wants to present himself. Not the familiar chocolate bronze-coated jackal I’ve always known, or the darker form I associate with his cosmic nature. And certainly not the white “wolf” some people believe he was once viewed as.

This Wepwawet is a jackal through and through, sleek, gleaming, swift and sharp. I can feel the kingship and the master of fate here still, but there’s something else that I don’t know well, something quick and elusive. I am almost nervous to explore it, but what to others might be a deadly dance, to those under his care might be a fascinating and challenging game. Might being the operative word, hah. Oh boy.

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