Dahozhoni Meadow the red crown

She sees him! His mouth goes dry. Her foot-servants are insubstantial, like shadows thrown on cave walls, thrown by the light of her fey mantle. A noise bubbles to his lips, a shapeless exclamation in a language no one (not even him) speaks.

But she turns away, and Moisés is certain that if he lets her leave his line of sight, he will never see her again. He makes his way up the hill, clods of dirt slipping under each clumsy step.

¡Espere! ¿Quién eres tú?