Golden Glade cymydog

mictec regarded madhuri in silence for a moment, her expression unreadable. the golden-furred woman carried herself with an openness that felt foreign, yet not unwelcome. a ruler’s daughter, raised in peace, molded in balance—such things sounded distant, almost unreal.  

titles are for those who need them. a simple statement, but not dismissive. mictec was not one to offer unnecessary barriers, nor did she see the need for excess formality between two who sought understanding. madhu, then. she tested the name, letting it settle like a stone placed with intent.  

she did not return the sentiment outright, but her posture remained neutral, receptive. if you seek peace, i will not deny you. but peace is not upheld by words alone.:; a quiet warning, or perhaps merely an acknowledgment of reality.  

a beat passed, and then, finally, she offered something in turn. mictecacihuatl, that is my full name, a rare gift, but one given without flourish, but you may call me mictec.::

a bridge, tentative but real, laid between them.