Two Eyes Cenote [M] A call from Olympus, ringing off the hook

Sleep, twisting into her blood.
Sleep, calling her into its arms. She offered herself to it when her head could no longer battle, and her heart could no longer beat itself away. It cooed everything into a dark quiet, as her eyes closed, and the desert dwellers pads curled to press into her own pads: they were soft. Soft in the sense that she knew them, even if they were coarse. They lulled her quiet.
Games didn't want to be played.
Games no longer.
When Ra child slept.
With a little white rabbit muffling into her ears in a haze.