Two Eyes Cenote Ikaheka

“Never mind it,” she desists with an irritated wave of paw, “just, continue to focus and report on what you feel.” Medusa was good at that, wasn’t she?

The hebsut settles again, making herself look the dignified part, even if the hemet’s mind was too far abstracted to care or notice such proprieties. That line had already been crossed the moment the coy beseeched such a sacrifice of the woman.

Her eyes flick ahead. Eset had long ago made a game of tabulating wolves. Each slipped neatly into their designated color. But she could not file Medusa into any one role. Perhaps that is in part what kept her flames leaping.

“Why agree to this? It is a great risk,” she poses, head raised back over her neck like a cobra sussing a threat.  It is clear Medusa had a meaningful relationship with her father. Eset could see how much they cared about each other. Why, then?

“Have you nothing to live for?”