Two Eyes Cenote Leaf-nosed

In the quiet of that room she tried to find a way to make sense of it, to understand why the Gods allow their cruel turnout. Few thoughts come. The death of language seemed the truest part of Eset's loss.

She’d thought words had all lost their meaning until the hemet speaks again. Flinching, as if struck, her eyelids pinch to shut in inconceivable despair. It took her a while to sense that she could trust the coyote, because her relationship to everyone was shifting. 

With bleak eyes she turns back upon Qiao and whispers, “No.”

Never again.

In her focus, long claws of goldenrod. She watches them weave back and forth in the healer’s hands.

“Would you tell me of them. The coyotes.”