Two Eyes Cenote Hourglass

The mazoi slipped to his side like wine on water, the red of his eyes also seeped into the king.

“It is war, Amani,” he grimaced, paw dragging roughly across the snout. “Take note. This happens when a servant girl is left to do the work of a man.” His lips curled into a sneer.

“All will soon be remedied.” Another splash of water, more blood to trickle upon the gray stone.

His eyes flicked ahead. “I trust you had no troubles abroad. You are needed here, in the cenote.”