-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
Jah had been a busy little bee. Hopping from Hyaline to god knows where for personal interests Circinae could never puzzle out. The red wytch she knew was pliable, sweet and attentive as any partner should be, but the curiosity of where her lightning dame slipped off to these days heightens now that the excitement of the past few weeks comes tumbling to a halt. Since the raid of Sylva her family had been split - She, Jah, and Crevan had shown face while Canaan and Corvus remained away. It was time to draw them together again, now that Hyaline was ascending in numbers and strength.
How to begin?
In the cool night air a sound jerks her into consciousness. Blue, round, lupine eyes blink reflectively against the bruise of color suffocating her world - everything is cloaked in shadows and haloed by resplendent starlight. She’s a shifter, pregnant at that, and so she finds security in sleeping as a wolf. It kept her aware with eyes closed, especially now that she was adjusting to a new place and new people. The call was anything but faint - strained, even - and specific in it’s nature.
Circinae uncurls and heads for the source anyways. The paths and deer trails of Hyaline are still fresh to her, though each step is led by a clever nose and sharp ears. In a pang of memory the mahogany she-wolf recalls blind sprints through her beloved Taiga and she sighs with melancholy over the loss. “Chin up, mother wolf.” The quick little predator thinks as she weaves up and over a sharp bend, “you’ll learn these walkways soon enough.”
A strange sort of promise to herself, one that invites excitement for the future and sends the thrill of movement writhing in her gut as she bounds lithely over a small bush. Her time for bringing new life into this world was close at hand also, but she had yet to feel crippling exhaustion or hot pains between her thighs. Whatever was in store for her this season, no doubt it would be delicate and surprising. Weary now from the uphill exertion and puzzling out their location, Circinae stops to raise her head at the shuffle of noise. Jah-Lilah, meters ahead and clearly focused on the forest floor, is shuffling for something.
The brown wolf snickers softly. Down an inky hillside she slips silently, nimbly, through low-growing weeds to follow her ruby dame back to a well-hidden spot of earth. There, she pushes shoulders and head through clasped thorns and leaves to view dusky figures pressed closed together in the act of something sacred. Circinae won’t interrupt - not yet, and not shaped like this - so she only whuffs quietly for her mate and opens her mouth to drop something she’s picked up along the way.
Catnip.
Circinae
