Two Eyes Cenote dead in the water

soto knows immediately that this one is not here for food.

he straightens from the small holes hes made in the rocky ground. the way she passes her gaze over him is what he imagines bugs must feel like to find their abode rudely unanchored, the sun peering in with blades of prying light.

there's nothing pleasant about the lily-pad green of her gaze. and though he can't be certain given how long he's been in the dark, when he turns his head away from her he's distinctly aware of serpentine shadows writhing in his peripherals. 

he knows what they call her kind back in the steppes. bruja.

he thinks of blowing her a kiss too, but the thought of intimacy with that writhing face sends his stomach squirming. to legend, he'd prepared a show -- but for qiao, soto instinctively covers his manhood, teeth baring until he feels the engulfing coldness of her shadow lift, and hears the echo of her shuffling feet slowly fade down the hall.