Two Eyes Cenote [ap] dancin’ in the desert, blowin’ up the sunshine

For a time she sits with the girl, snoozing off the effect of the berries, thinking about how Frolic existed in a strange, prolonged state of glorious rapture that was childhood innocence. A precious and delicate commodity.

Eventually she will awaken her with a gentle voice and a paw to her flaxen shoulder.

“You must go home, Frolic. Go home to your mother and give her a big hug, and tell her you love her.”