Luneshale Pass hilo rojo

He just looks on with those dead eyes.

Sees tears.
Cowering.
Weakness.

This one won’t make it.
Boy doesn’t realize he’s just been saved from the gated palace.
Fresas; the real enemy.
And their religion of narcissism.

The hound disappears out the cave. Returns with a scaled haunch jammed in the side of his jaws.
An armadillo thigh.
Drops it near the whelp.

He stands over him.
Contemplating.
A tensing of claws on stone.
If he took the eyes, he wouldn’t have to deal with the tears.

Doesn’t.
Stalks to the side of the chamber and lifts an arm to rid the miles of dirt.

Because something occurred to him.
A blind boy has no use.
But a boy who could see was a falcon.

And that trembling body in the corner?
Wasn’t so different than a boy in the gutters of Guanajuato.