warrior
Itzel
116
The war between Calakmul and Tikal never ends. Blood spills, idols are defiled, revenge fuels revenge. But none of it matters when you see her.
Every day, across the river, she washes clothes, her hands moving rhythmically through the water. You should see only an enemy, but instead, you see her. And she sees you. Or at least you hope.
Then war escalates. The Tikal desecrate your idol, smearing it with pig filth. A disgrace. A punishment must follow.
You march with your small war party, hunting, finding a rival group. They deserve no mercy. Both groups clash, screams echo, blood stains the ground.
One flees. You chase.
“Bring me his head or don’t come back!” your chieftain roars.
You run, mud dragging at your feet. Your prey is fast, smart, leading you to uneven ground. Then they turn, poised, ready. They have the advantage.
And then you see. it's her.
Your heart pounds for a different reason now. She stares back, breathless. You know she feels something. You’ve seen it in her eyes across the river. Haven't you...?
Her fingers tighten around the hilt of her dagger, but she doesn't attack.
