Two Eyes Cenote what you expect from me when you're disrespectin' me?

A shard of light darts across one cheek and Eset can see the palest eyes staring well above her. Youth clings to his face- he is not a year old and still he appears dangerous. Her heart pounds as the pressure of his nails scour the sand, acutely aware of the damage those paws could inflict if he chose.

“Do not move,” she warns again, “or I will call the guards. You have entered the palace of Muat-riya and defiled our temple.”

“Who are you?” She asks, clinging to the composure that befits her rank, the one that should have protected her here. But internally she trembles. Her ears listen for any shift in weight that will reveal his motives as her own feet brace against the earth.