Two Eyes Cenote Dear Arkansas Daughter

Machi listened closely, his ears pricked forward in keen attention, every twitch betraying his curiosity. That's very clever of you, he remarked warmly. There was a glint in his opal eyes, a flicker of something like respect. Being underestimated is one of the most useful things one can cultivate, he continued, a soft smile curling at the corners of his mouth conspiratorially.

He paused, his expression thoughtful, considering her question carefully, uncertain how best to navigate such a delicate topic. I don’t think many within these walls particularly enjoy my presence, he confessed with a chuckle, a thread of humor weaving through his tone. The half-breed's shoulders lifted in a small, resigned shrug, a gesture that spoke of acceptance of his role within the palace. I can't blame them, really. I dare say my reputation precedes me, he added with a wry sigh, his paw drifting up to brush over the faint marks on his muzzle where thorns had once embedded themselves.

I'm glad you think so, he said, a light laugh escaping him as he playfully tapped a forepaw against her shoulder. It was a rather depressing place, wasn’t it? His laughter softened the edges of his words, the gentle rhythm of it filling the space between them.

Indeed, very much so, Machi agreed, his opal eyes sparkling with mirth. But that's what makes it so fun, don’t you think? It serves no purpose other than to bring a bit of joy. At least, that’s how I see it.

Tilting his head slightly, he studied her expression, his curiosity piqued. Would you like to learn? he asked softly.