Two Eyes Cenote i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

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Didn't she? How could she be moved to accept his words, despite how certain his voice?

Eset knew no secrets to subdue such turbulence, but in the moment she allowed Meseba’s cavernous calm to drape her in it and leaned among the soft touches of his chest, calling on Hathor to bless the man; that he would never live with such anchoring regrets as she feared.

The green eyes are bright like torches and she prays they never lose such a spark. She sighs deeply into the silver furs, her own hand upon his arm gentle, like water softly falling on a smooth stoneface.