Storm Watch Butte [M] First impressions are important, and I'm afraid I might mess this one up

Return to sender.


The call of Muat-riya pulled the devils child in, beat in by waves of push and oceans of fight. She swam with the waters of scorched sand and burning Ra. Night fell cold. Day fell hot. Mindless, forward, dead in a winding brain with eyes that did not think twice.

Muat-Riya engraved itself.

She treaded the Stormwatch. Safe by home. Never far. Always there. She could make way for the cenote at any time. Yet she lingered and she kept her head low, lazily moving, and ears filled with sand until she heard a faint ring.

Her head drew frequently towards the palace. Never lost.

And soon she'd begin her path for it again with high ears and scavenger eyes. Periodic bubbles of whines danced out of her inked throat.