Two Eyes Cenote Dear Arkansas Daughter

For @Safiya <3

Machi knelt beside one of the tortoiseshell planters, his paws moving with precision as he tended to his hidden garden. The air inside the cave was thick with the mingled scents of damp earth and blossoms—mint’s sharp tang, the sweetly narcotic hint of poppy, the earthy notes of peyote, and the soothing, almost sleepy fragrance of chamomile and lavender. The patched sunlight spilled over the garden in a golden haze, illuminating the vibrant hues of blossoms and the pale green of leaves.

His nails, stained dark with soil, deftly pinched away the dead leaves and broken stems. The steady trickle of a stream flowed along one side of the cave, its soft, melodic gurgle providing a soothing backdrop to the quiet ritual of his gardening. There was a rhythm to his work, a sort of meditative trance that calmed his restless mind, keeping the darkness at bay.

The half-breed shifted to another shell, this one nestled closer to the wall where the light was softer, more diffused. The plants here were of great interest to him, having been planted from the seeds he had gathered with Legend. More delicate than the hardy desert flora, their heart-shaped leaves were a deep, forest green, and the buds were just beginning to form. Machi gently untangled the slender vines that had wound themselves too tightly, guiding them with care to latch onto the limestone wall, their tendrils eager to climb and explore.

Machi leaned closer to one of the buds, his breath slowing as he inspected it. His opal eyes narrowed slightly, studying the subtle signs of distress—a hint of yellowing at the edges, a faint wilting. A frown creased his brow. What could be the cause? Perhaps the soil was too dry, or lacking in some essential nutrients. He brushed a pad against one of the soft leaves, feeling the life pulsing beneath its surface, the resilience that belied their frail appearance. Perhaps once this was all over, he could travel into one of the nearby forests to collect better soil.

He whispered to the blooms, his voice low and soothing, weaving a melody from half-remembered words of his youth—a song of encouragement and hope. The plants seemed to respond, their leaves swaying gently, as if in acknowledgment of his words. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, or perhaps they truly were listening. Machi chose to believe the latter, finding comfort in the thought.

He carefully tilted the plant toward the sun, allowing it to drink in the brilliant rays. Not too much now, he whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice. Just enough to keep you strong. He dipped his paws into the cool, flowing water, letting the stream rinse away the earth before cupping a handful to sprinkle over the roots. The droplets sparkled like diamonds as they caught the sunlight.

With the plants tended, Machi slipped out of the cave and into the ruined chamber beyond, inhaling deeply. Legend had been here, but for what purpose he did not know. The possibility that she was angry had never been denied, and that troubled the dog greatly. He missed her presence, her companionship. It was a longing that settled deep in his chest, a constant reminder of what he had lost and what he still hoped to find—if she still even cared to give it after all these months.

Returning to the cave, he carried a half-empty shell of ground pigment, carefully pushing the boulder aside just enough to squeeze through. With the powder in hand, he seated himself at the stream’s edge, using the crystalline surface as a mirror. After all, there was little else to do but wait.