Bitterroot Valley sundowning

you must be the other one.

those unfeeling yellow eyes move from the woman and to the other male standing before her. and part of sky eater bristles with a wariness, an uncertainty that seeps into the bones and lights his guts up from the inside out.

twisting. gnarling. the roots of a tree.

i, he voices suddenly with the melting pot of a baritone monotonic, kuxa̱taqsa. ears airplane then in silence as he moves closer, step after step, and his tail slinks amongst his hocks.

he is lanzadoii, reared by muradoii milk. and something else entirely he does not yet know the gravitas of. but those go unspoken, unnecessary. his secrets to harbor, to keep close.

he is stiff, and still. but those yellowed eyes center, hone, in on twitch and watch with an eerie fascination.