Two Eyes Cenote The greatest tide washed up my prize.

Her breath is caught in the fur of his chin. The commandments of his Prince, the God of Gods, they are over her. He is over her. Mesen-ka enjoys the wind of night and how she falls. He trails his paw atop her ears, because he could. Tracing the curves of soft inked fur by the edges, because he could. He reminds her of his weight by pressing, because he could. The touching of the mazoi, who he names fellahin in this momentary fun, he allows.

And suddenly he's amused. His smile so very gentle. His eyes will burn into her as he intends to keep her weighted. 

Down.
The guard's voice is honey, a tune he speaks for her.

Commanding.

"And of my prince?"