Two Eyes Cenote víscera

he nods in affirmation. yes, you. and then points to a row of hedges not so far from them, their shoulders rounded in snow. brushing along them, soto leaves tufts of fur -- imparting his own scent to the wildwood.

the amazon does not move. soto's attention pans over her briefly, turning back to the sheepish boy who'd risen just a little too eagerly. his ears swept back as a god-awful sound clatters around them. laughter at poor bushtit's expense.

soto grins and rolls his shoulder. no matter. he moves past them both, sniffing at a broken shell overturned in the dirt. raking it back with a paw, soto scents traces of some unknown herb in them.

he lifts his leg and leaves another fresh deposit in the snow, moving out along the lowland with his gaze sharp and ears attentive to insurgents.