Two Eyes Cenote Come on, my Combat Chameleon

Laughter faded away with the sight of her body. Gone into the trees and the thick cover of leaves.

Deeper into the canopy, darker into the verdant. Every step taken, drowned intensely by the songbirds that had flown in from the valleys. Thundering groundwater, trickling streams. The rustle of jittering leaves would grab attention, and lose it just as quickly.

They would break through the dense wall of vegetation in a relentless pursuit until light spilled down once more from the leafy ceiling. Her claw marks adorned the smooth stones and soft patches of silt. Trails left behind, clues to where she may have hidden, and also where she ran. Running faster, and harder, until she suddenly slipped by much quieter. Find me! Find me! Find me.

Disappeared again into the thicker belly of the plantlife, her heart raced itself into what she believed must've been gently symphonies of pleasure. Frolicking in place, dipped into the soil, alive.

Machiavelli would find the woman when she appeared before him, mid-stride in his gallop, as if sprung from the very ground itself. Closed-eyed and smiling, wrapped in vines at the throat. They could feel breath at this distance, and Legend could see the gold from his voice before a word was ever said. Laughing demonically, quietly into a collision, nose to nose.