Ever since Medusa had realized that she was... not quite right, in her mind, she had been struggling on the razor edge of sanity and what lay opposite. She knew that how she thought and how the gears in her brain worked was odd to other people, her logic typically convoluted and very nonsensical, but she didn't care. She reached proper conclusions and felt proper emotions, perhaps a little more strongly than other people did. The Serbian was not, exactly, best befitted to doing things that would require a certain sense of inner peace, but she was an Abigor, an artiste and the chaos within her mind made her creations all the more compelling, she believed.
It was that same sense of chaos, with lots of completely unsubtle help from the Narrator that compelled her to wander so far from her home, Anathema, after the terrible hurricane. She wasn't quite sure if she was supposed to be moving around so much, as she rubbed the slight hardness in her abdomen, but she didn't care. Medusa didn't understand the concept of pregnancies or childbirth, having had ten miscarriages in her youth due to the demands of her 'mate'. She snarled quietly, and promised that she would carry her child or children to term and care for them as no other.
Medusa realized abruptly that her wanderings may have been too far afield when she began to scent traces of another pack. She blanched, her eye widening, and scrambled backwards. Her hands gripped the tattered cloak and pulled it close around her, giving it new rips, as her tail tucked in between her legs. She looked around and silently cursed, wishing that she had both of her eyes.
She knew that someday, another eagle or some other bird such as that would come down with a fury and take out her other eye, leaving her completely blind. It terrified her, made her whine quietly and hunch over. Medusa just knew that it would happen, could taste it almost. It was a terrible fear, but it would happen. And how would she be able to function after that? She wouldn't, not at all.
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