Two Eyes Cenote tres rondas y un sonido

The snakeskin boy, timid as he was, had grown more comfortable in the cenote. He did not want to be confined to the dark space he shared with his mother and siblings—at least not all the time. They were still small, but growing fast, and they were nothing if not inexperienced with their own bodies. He'd taken a couple kicks to the muzzle as his siblings shifted and squirmed in the night.

He'd made a habit of going off to play by himself in the mornings, before the rest would wake up. Today, the wide-eared boy followed a beetle, the brilliant green of its back drew his eye. He wanted just to watch it, and babbled something incoherent, trying to convince it to sit still, but the beetle alas, could not speak his tongue, and if it could it was ignoring him. It flew short distances, and Nokht began to enjoy the chase. He did not take into mind how far it would lead him, nor how dangerous the lowlands had been in the past months, nobody spoke to the youngest about such dire topics, there was a desire for them to remain untainted, safe and relaxed. 

But it left him ignorant all the same. He wiggled himself through a hole just his size in pursuit of his plaything, and stepped outside. The beetle's iridescent shell shone brighter than before, and for a moment the curious pup just sat and watched, closed off to his surroundings. 

So many things in this world were so wonderful.