Storm Watch Butte [M] First impressions are important, and I'm afraid I might mess this one up

Staring into her eyes was like falling into quicksand, and it was Machiavelli who looked away first with an annoyed click of the tongue. The pressure lifted from the lady's skull as Machi stepped away from her, flopping dramatically into the sand. I'm sorry, my darling, there appears to have been a case of mistaken identity, he crooned, gaze searching for something else to attract it.

This was found in the shape of a small beetle struggling to cross one of the ridges formed in the sand. The wind would blow it over, only for the thing to right itself and begin again. His stare remained occupied by the misadventures of the little bug, rounded russet ears pointed toward the stranger, sure to catch any words that chanced to fall from her lips. It was only when the creature, defeated, flipped onto its back and stayed there, legs wriggling in the air, that Machi's gaze returned to the woman.