Two Eyes Cenote fifty-seventh

Failed.
Lost to expectation.
But he, he who traversed with the Gods, her Gods, a God, spoke forbidden words amongst her ears. It could only be truth, holy; commandment. He said she had done well. A smile from her lips.
A good job. He fed her joy, pleasures. She had done. Well. “Really? Yeah?” Her tail tapped to cold stone.

Tap. “Reward me.”

A returned inhale, her gears turned quickly, a rapid influx of thought. They whispered amongst one another. The changeling spoke with ghosts. To him. As an altar.
“I’ve seen,” her eyes wandered, darting the the ceilings, and how they poured light amongst their bodies where they did not shadow one another, “so much of the Queen. Queen Toula.” Another inhale, soft to his fur. Her eyes to his.

 “So much of you.”