Golden Glade illumination

he's tense. confused. good. a man in such state is useful, clay drawn from the bank to mold in tezcatlipoca's favor.

her tail twitches, held out in the manner of a single hand waiting for its adjoining palm. come.

she weaves through tall reeds and listens. the sigh of the earth, the harsh crack of shifting ice. somewhere here is a turtle - or many - but it is only one that will be useful.

she places her head upon the ground and her gaze finds his as if to say follow; do as i do -- holding just long enough that there is a spark between them -- and breaking her gaze before he can see the fractured yellow within hers.

she moves again. not this mound of earth. not this swale of snow. the earth is cold and holds onto her secrets -- but somewhere here, a brumating creature holds the earth on the back of his great and painted shell.