Two Eyes Cenote cuento

he's up to two hundred fifty four, when a voice purls from the shadow.

the spiderling. soto detracts himself from the stone bed, noting the felid grace in which she rests just above him, peering down. he has to give props to the architect of this room -- they made sure every small facet reminded the captor the world looked down upon him.

she says his name, and he hears but does not see the wag of her tail. this was the recipient of his first gift -- he wonders, but does not hope, that it had some positive bearing. araña, he answers back, his name for the crooked thing that swims in his sights. still, she was a far more pleasant vision than some of his other visitors.