Two Eyes Cenote he will never eat

in the humidity of the early morning, so thick it felt like stark was attempting to breathe in water, he pauses in patrol more often than he would normally; seeking brief respites beneath the shade offered by the cenotes — chasing the shadows like a great mighty beast on the hunt.

he drinks often, fearing dehydration in the grit of red sand that always coats his tongue now.

but muat-riya is his home, and that it feels as such ( despite not knowing nor socializing with many ) fills stark with a warming sense of purpose.