I don't think I'll ever land; twins, kirin, any

[Oswyn]

----- She hates to admit it, but she’s getting old. Her belly hasn’t bounced back as easily from the birth, and her joints creak with ever step. She’s tired, so tired. And, while she had fully planned on actually raising this child … she really hadn’t been expecting twins.  The girls are lovely, really. But so energetic. Put both of them together … and well, she’s just exhausted.  It hadn’t taken long for her mind to travel back to a few years ago when she’d found a place to drop off another daughter - Misra. And knowing how eager Kirin had been to take Misra, it couldn’t hurt to try, right? After all, both of them have colour - Rusalka’s lovely crimson ombre had been apparent right at birth, and while Rakshasa had seemed unfortunately plain, Oswyn had been pleased to notice a slight pink ticking appearing in her coat recently. Neither of them have displayed any talents unfortunately, but colour is better than nothing.  She does wait at least until the girls are both weaned, and then wastes no time in setting off for the Cove. The trip itself is short, but the girls drive her crazy with their running about, and by the time they reach the border of the little herd land, she’s feeling more than a little grumpy. “Girls!” She barks as they reach the border. “This is Kirin’s land, please be polite.” She lets out a low call for her nephew, certain that he must be somewhere nearby. Hopefully he’ll appear soon, and, hopefully, he’ll have an interest in the girls.  oswyn I don't think I'll ever  land

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