Firestone Hot Springs gibbous

anoré’s stride didn’t slow. her pawsteps were soundless over the wet clay.
"i left." it was all she said at first—flat, final. she could not muster the will to say from where, from home, for it wasn't.
"left my name. my kin. left the man who thought his seed made him god.” her voice never rose, but there was weight behind every word.
her tail flicked behind her, as if brushing off whatever annoyance the very thought brought to her, just then. 
after a time she spoke again, this time with less blade, but still rough with grime.
"and you, atoztli, have you left somewhere like that? is that why you wander, now?"