Sometimes my sitting room hangs with vines and the walls become the world all around. A private boat tumbles by for Ana and she sails off through night and day, in and out of weeks, to where her wild brethren are. After rumpusing for a spell, she gets lonely and trades her wolf suit for supper (which is still hot).
There is a posterior focus about Tara Cain's marvelous body of work this week. A fitting angle in this wild house, where most residents have tails to match their horns (some invisible, but don't be fooled).
I don't mean to imply that Ana spends all her time where the wild things are. Sometimes she's off chasing Bagheera through the jungle. But tails are compulsory in all her worlds.