Two Eyes Cenote Dear Arkansas Daughter

A big softie? Machiavelli hummed, a thread of amusement woven through his voice. I’ll have to remember that. The idea of the stern captain being anything less than thoroughly intimidating sparked the barest of smirks on his face.

What an incredible list of accomplishments! It sounds like you’ve been keeping yourself occupied, haven’t you? Yet, something in her recounting made his ears twitch, and a ripple of unease began to stir beneath the surface.

The half-breed’s curiosity sharpened, betraying a note of caution as he pressed on. You mentioned meeting new wolves? His voice remained as conversational as ever, though there was a subtle tension beneath it now. Are there newcomers? The question hung in the air, touched with the weight of old memories, his mind wandering back to that fateful night when Eira had spoken to Eset.

It was curious—no, unsettling—that Herod and his entourage had yet to arrive at the Blue Palace.