Starglow Basin your bloodstains on my custom coutures

… and an apparition; edged in silver lucency beneath the cold-cast starlight.

“May I join you?” The ocelote emerges from a bracket of shadow, red eyes peeling towards the woman in the deep night.

These were the last of autumn days. Soon, winter’s sere voice would bear itself upon the basin, complicating an evening walk. Already dead leaves lie in drifts from palo verde as Osiel approaches Soto’s slender recruit.