how lost we are.

(( I think the thing with alphas being able to enter any threads of their own land still stands. Let me know if that changed. She won't be interfering or anything, just hanging out ))

She lurks, quiet--but a ghost present in the mortal world. Behind one of the boulders that edge the hot springs she is tucked away, pelt pressed against the warm rock. They happen upon the space on the other side by coincidence, their scent drifting towards her, the soft breeze made warm by the springs carrying their words to her ears. There's something she recognizes in their tones--a heat, a passion, so tender and so fierce and when Ara speaks, she swears that if she shifts that tone just a little, she could hear Medusa saying her own name. Jupiter is quiet. And she is passive--femme fatale with thirst quenched by the observation of love. She hardly breathes; the woman is curious as to what kind of relationship they share. Though she wishes eagerly to find the opportunity to match faces to those words, she bides her time. Patient. Waiting.