Witch's Marsh I ate the whole world to find you.

Day 1/5 of her first heat.

Rheia had been feeling bolder in the past day or two and she did not know why, because she was still alone and she was still very desperate to be reunited with her sister (even if it meant a reintroduction to her husband and subsequently, playing nice). She had found a stranger in the foothills of the nearby mountain and normally, on any other day, Rheia would have taken off without a thought. Instead she had lingered and behaved as if he was family — or maybe not family, but certainly she had been more accepting of him and motherly than what was usual for her. In the end she had left him there though, eager to return to the forest where her temporary den had been formed.

After a brief sojourn through the aformentioned forest (and a brief spell of rest) Rheia turned her attention to the east and ventured off again. Her body was demanding freedom; she desired to feel the wind through her fur and was eager to stretch her legs, maybe find something to chase — there was an unusual uptick in her energy level, an effulgence, which was both unsettling and entirely liberating.

Not to mention a subtle change in her scent. That was not something the would-be siren took note of. She was too busy scouting out the fringes of the wetland as she came upon it, and at her moderate speed she managed to spook some sleepy marsh birds from their posts. They took wing abruptly and Rheia reached with her steps in order to give chase. As her paws thundered through a patch of thawed muskeg she noticed a layer of thick silvery foam in her wake; it broke apart as she ran through it, but coated her limbs. As she slowed, she stalked out of the deeper patch and then bent her head to inspect herself, and found the grime layer tasted vividly like iron — how bizarre.