Mudminnow River the goddess will provide

only one participant, please!

Follow the water, his elders had always said. So, he had, keeping the physical manifestation of Ireni—Goddess of life, blood, and fresh water—always in his sights. This river, in particular, did not look very pretty, but Jorn knew that the muddy silt that made the water this unappealing brown color also kept this place fertile and beautiful. He snuffled along the bank of the river, noting the fish that darted away at his approach, and lapped at the water, reveling in its rich, mineral flavor. Following the water had always brought him good fortune before, and he silently thanked the Goddess for continuing to provide.

in her state, which alternated between blissful blankness - rendering her susceptible to the wonders of the world, to the point of weeping before the sight of morning dew - and a deep, primal aching, the supplicant travelled northeast in tight circles, as if that which would sate her hid behind a hill or stone slab she just passed.

so parted from her senses by bitter roots and dried mushrooms, the last of which she'd chewed into a gummy mush only an hour ago, even her instincts were a blunted thing, thus it was only by luck that she found the river.

she came to the muddy bank and looked down into the water, and in her vision it seemed like a thick, juicy vein upon the earth. this filled her with a deep existential dread which had her shrinking before this divine anatomy, and her eyes rolled up to watch the sky and wonder if the titanic teeth of some god would come down to chew her, a thick black tick, out of its fur.

she murmured in a madwoman's tongue, the word "molars" repeating amidst the stream of nonsense. 

>hello! i am so sorry that this is the first person your kid runs into. note that betty is in heat and smells strongly of unspecified hallucinogenic plants and mushrooms

Molars, came a voice from a little farther upstream, carried back to Jorn on the wind. Molars... Molars.

He blinked, ears pushed forward on his head. What in the Goddess' name was this creature talking about molars for? And what... was she? Eyes narrowing, he went toward her, sniffing the wind, and recoiled at the scent of a woman in heat, mixed with a strange, cloying smell of some unidentifiable plant-life. The two scents combined to be quite disgusting, and Jorn was yet too young to really know what to do with a woman in heat. He knew, of course, but had no interest in such things.

He stared at the woman, trying to decide what species she belonged to. She looked like a wolf had mated with a bear. To tell the truth, he'd heard stranger stories. Sighing deep in his throat, he called out, "Hello? Are you all right?" He did not know what else to ask in this situation, for he could not identify the plant-and-mushroom scent that clung to her, and could not imagine why she could possibly be muttering about molars.

a voice came then, startling her out the gibbering madness, in which she rambled on about divine teeth certain to crush her for her impiety and grind her flesh into a fine black powder.

the bearwoman's eyes rolled around the rims of her sockets until her gaze came to rest upon a man. a boy, truly. a most unassuming specimen, brown and solid, with nothing to make the eye linger upon him.

too young, was the thought that disappointed her most.

she realised with quite some delay that the words the boy spoke were a question. what it was exactly, she couldn't recall. it was as if a thick fog had engulfed her mind, and to think further would be to lose herself in it.

irrelevant.

the beardog ambled - nearly stumbled - towards the brunette boy, then began an attempt to fully circle him. observing from each angle for signs of maturity.

she found him lacking.

"tell me... child..." her voice was a hoarse rasp. "which deity blesses the women?"

Jorn watched the woman a little warily, unsure if he liked the expression she was giving him. Then again, it was difficult to tell facial expression, given that the woman's face was so squished. Could she breathe, he wondered. She did not respond to his question, instead coming to circle around him, taking him in. He bristled at this sudden inspection, feeling the need to simultaneously stand taller and run away. He chose to stand taller, but let his hackles raise to show annoyance.

'Tell me, child, which deity blesses the women?'

What a strange question. Jorn bristled even more at being called a child. "I'm not a child," he snapped. "I can hunt and fight and find my own way in the world, and that makes me a man." He took a breath. "As for deities, I know only the Goddess I grew up with. Her name is Ireni, the Goddess of life and blood and water. She manifests as rivers and ponds and creeks. She is the Mother Goddess, so women of my tribe do look to her, but so do the men." He paused, feeling a little foolish, wondering why he had given in so quickly and told this strange bear woman about his patron deity. "Does that suffice?"

his refusal to acknowledge his own juvenility coaxed a curving of the lips from bernadette. 

"you might hunt. you might fight. you might wander. but an adult that doesn't make you." she spoke as she passed by his flank.

"when you have grown into your coat. when you've experience enough that it spills out your ears." the bearwoman walked back to her initial position. "when you know what to do with a wanting woman." her tail flicked. "then you shall be an adult." she seated herself on the moist grasses. "trust a mother of eight sons."

bernadette stretched herself, sliding down until she laid on the ground. there ahe she set her head between her paws and looked up at the boyman. in her intoxicated vision, his fur appeared to ripple.

"this goddess, why do you worship her?"