Two Eyes Cenote is that it? are you not allowed to talk?

if she took offense to his nickname, she did well to hide it. to stark's surprise, she rises to meet his quip with a challenge in her tone, laced with her words that has a small thrill slithering along the curve of his spine. i can probably manage that — he murmurs; subdued.

eset. he tests it out, letting the syllables lift and roll off his tongue.

stark. my name is stark. he reminds her; telling himself that his first introduction had gotten lost in the chaotic storm of words and possible, almost offenses he committed.

he hesitates for only a second before following after her, gaze sweeping across the palace walls, like an archaeologist discovering a lost queen's tomb; mirroring the same awe.

so, muat-riya, stark begins. what's it like? what are the expectations set for me?