Two Eyes Cenote Ikaheka

She enters brusquely, eyes tracking around the room before landing pointedly upon Medusa.

Medusa. They were not so different– in age, in… breed. Still, the very sight of her summons revulsion.

“Look– I have no time to sugarcoat things, hemet Medusa,” she begins, a leap of flame meeting the still blue water of the pale woman's eyes. “Someone has been leaving a substance veiled as a gift on our borders. It would not be so great a worry, except that the doctor cannot determine exactly what is in it. To find out, she wants to ingest it– which I abhor the very idea of. Muat-riya cannot be without the good health of our sole physician.” Eset’s eyes are steady.

“Thus, I am in search of a volunteer, someone who will agree to sample the substance and report its effects.” She ignores how discourteous the inquiry is. No matter her personal feelings, she would never seek to belittle the important work of the hemet. Only– by her estimation, all others within Muat-riya were soldered to their positions here; mothers, fathers, guardians, children. She could not have known the very woman she spoke to now had birthed a litter only days prior, and was still healing from her procedures.

Among the lot of Muat-riya, Eset could only identify two suitable examinees. Medusa was one of them.