Two Eyes Cenote beryllium

“Pregnant,” her voice catches, and she cannot force any calmness into it. Pregnant; pregnant.

“Oh, Tavina,” she bursts with agony, like a vicious bite to the throat. Now her own posture falls and if Tavina weeps no attempt is made to pacify her tears, only to catch each warm bead with the back of her paw-tips. “I’m so sorry- gods, I’m so sorry,” she cradles her, the woman who should have been a mother. Whose arms should have been full with a wife, and children.

Eset blinks her tears and they make a mess of her cheeks. She clasps Tavina’s raven hand in her own and softly leads her along the garden path, returning to their home in the hearth of the twin cenotes. They slip through tapering walls of stone to where the water’s rippling wanes into the cadence of footfalls. Into a wide, empty, time-stained hall they emerge. A portal opens to the sky; a breeze passes over them, stirring the floor’s old leaf-litter. It's dark, and it's somber. Eset gently releases the sesh’s hand and slowly steps towards one side.

“Imagine… there are herbs here,” she gestures with an arm, her voice cracking, “and bones, placed here.” She passes now over to the left side of the room. “A table for demonstrations can go here, and rows of pupils sitting- there.” The coywolf spins, walking imaginary pews.

“And you are: here. At the front…” the girl sweeps towards the anterior, standing in place. “Anatomy. Medicine. Manners. It’s… a classroom. A school- if you want it to be.”

She turns to face Tavina now, her heart pounding in her ears. How hollow it must all seem, compared to what she’d had- what she was so close to having.