Two Eyes Cenote necromantic dancing

The priest moves shakily, nosing the bowl further down the wall. Akhtar’s eyes were glassy, his ears tilted to hear the scrape of pawpads across the ground.

Little Bast.

His head turns, to witness the dark shadow of a creature staring into the shadows.

What do we see, blessed one? His voice is a rasp, a hiss. In this night where the land of reeds casts its river through the cenote, Akhtar feels the eyes of those long past prickling at his fur.

Perhaps his parents are here, gliding past their son.

His eyes catch on what seems to be dark scales and he flinches back-!

It’s nothing. A shadow. Akhtar presses a paint covered paw to his chest.

What do we see? He breathes into the air, his legs giving out and bringing his haunches to the ground with a great thump.