Two Eyes Cenote Come on, my Combat Chameleon

The man crept through the growth, ears twitching as the Jackdaw's laugh bounced around the greenery. He was the one hunting now, and it was evident in the slinking pull of his limbs across the earth, the twitch of his pink nose, and the flashing of his gaze.

The game had a serious edge, a thrilling undercurrent that Machiavelli relished. He enjoyed games, but he loved to win. His quarry would be found, no matter the effort.

Suddenly, she appeared beside him in a blur of movement. Without hesitation, Machiavelli darted out a slender arm, catching her and sending them both tumbling to the ground. They fell with a thump, a cloud of dust billowing around them. His shattered-glass eyes gleamed with wild, predatory excitement.

In the next breath, the pale stone of his face was as soft as a kitten's. I caught you, he murmured, leaning down to kiss her brow, touch as soft as a whisper.