The Xoloitzcuintli walks the ancient path.
Its paws do not touch the world blindly — they remember.
Each step carries the echo of obsidian, the scent of copal, the pulse of the drum.
It is not merely a dog.
It is the warmth that healed our ancestors’ bones.
It is the guardian of the threshold between dream and death.
And when the night is deepest,
when your soul trembles in the silence,
you will feel it curl beside your feet —
and in its breath, the stories of your blood
will return like fireflies.