Two Eyes Cenote maybe they're no different 'cause they look the same

The queen was to be married—Akavir blinked, though spoke nothing—only considered. She had seemed so youthful, and thus, it would seem a prime victim for the politics of such a pack. Toula had been pleasant—warm, beautiful. Perhaps everything he had not expected, if only because of the horrors he had come to know of the palace in which she reigned.

When the questioner asked his name, he drew from his thoughts, as if in a fog. The desert sun was warmer than in the valley—but he refused to reveal any fatigue to the she-wolf. “A—“ he began to answer, and then his jaws clipped shut—no, they were not aware who Akavir was.

“Ahhh,” he continued, as if it was a natural progression to his words. Foolish man. “Taltos. I had visited the palace months before with a friend, looking for my daughter. Lilitu.”