Two Eyes Cenote regalo

something flits across her face sparrowlike and small. for a moment he quails, his hopeful energy grinding to a stop. 

but she gasps and the ring of her small voice pronounces joy. soto stills, eyes apprehensive as he waits for her to unpack it all. 

would she like the frogs, and know they were prized in his homeland for their fat?

would she find the lily flower pretty, as he did when he first watched it unfurl over the banks of the luneshale river?

the moonstone; would she hold it in her hands and see a fragment of the moon reflected back?

he stood at her feet, drinking in each emotion that crosses her russet features.

prowling steps draw soto from his studying of the girl’s youth-rounded face. a pair of hard eyes cut into him. 

he steps back as the fur along his spine unwillingly rifles. he’s not sure what the man had said, but the tone needed no translator. it says you are unwelcome and the eyes, they say what the mouth does not — a killer’s eyes framed in dark chestnut. 

soto’s excitement disintegrates in smoky wisps. he swallows, looking briefly at the girl (if only to hold the vision of how her seaglass eyes illuminate in elation!) before he steps back. 

the man’s presence sours the interaction. the girl seemed excited to see him, indicating someone known - which puts soto in danger.  a slew of words he doesn’t know - some mixed with his own - follow. soto remains silent, rooted to the spot where khusobek’s glacial eyes first pried into him. 

he dips his head, taking another ginger step back. adios, chamaca. soto says, turning to hold khusobek in his gaze before he moves back onto the trail leading from muat riya.