Snowforest Taiga mangosteen

oops! Medusa is IN HEAT!

 

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If the Taiga was any different in temperature from the arid climates Medusa had become accustomed to, she could not tell you. She could not tell you much of anything these past few days—she had snapped @Gucci away as it all became too much to bear, and fled. 

If the Gods were real, she would find him again—but for all of her lessons, and for all she had learned, Medusa did not believe in much but for herself and the little man that was her father. When she had told him what she had seen, he was quick to come to a solution—that to appease everyone, but to get away to think, they must go to another aspect of the kingdom. Live more, learn more—blah, blah, blah. 

More on that when this arc is completed, because Medusa was following another thread—one none had the foresight to forewarn her about, one that would have consequences. But she was feckless and reckless, a terrible combination, and so none of that mattered to her now. Nothing mattered to her so much as this niggling feeling. One she did not know how to resolve. 

Fuck. Maybe this was the Gods! Nothing had had such power over her before, nothing. It was a call she felt helpless to answer. 

And it led her to some weeping man. It was the latter point that seemed to matter most to her, and her tail wagged to unwittingly waft the scent she carried around. You! she called, careless to his emotional state. You must help me! 

She marched over to him, one decision made and she was unshakeable.