Two Eyes Cenote one minute of everything at once

we have not spoken in some time, the dreadfather and i. ingram admits, thinking and not sharing that this is probably a good thing. even if, in the end, the dreadfather just kept being replaced by whatever shiny, new deity caught ingram's attention.

the hellhound draws in a breath, deep, this time. letting the chilly air linger in his lungs before he pushes it out in a relieving exhale.

many questions. ingram parrots in agreement, a ghost of a wily grin tugging at the edges of his scarred lips. there and gone before it could truly make a home.

i should keep moving.