Two Eyes Cenote Hunger of the Pine

"Are you alright, Legend?" She asks first of the mazoi who appears unrattled before resiling her poise to cast a distrusting glance over the man with the parcel, who’s labeled himself only as villain. Legend’s eyes brim with conspiracy and the hebsut knows well enough the darkness which appeals to her.

A fellahin, she suggests. To be a man who gives and owns nothing; who learns the value of dirt and the currency of personhood.

A forward step brings Eset closer to the stranger, the measured burn in her amber eyes tracing over the flaxen lines of his face.

“What is your name?” Her voice questions, looking for an answer beyond criminal.