-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
“We’re a rather busy group, my family and I.” The Shifter concludes once Amet has spoken his peace. Between everything that had occurred since Taiga’s downfall and now, Circinae might even be inclined to add, almost too busy to her statement. But she doesn’t. Instead, what she does say is, “However, we seem to be in the right places at exactly the right time.”
And that is the truest statement she could have uttered.
“King Amet,” She begins again, now that proper name has come to settle on his shoulders. “Since I dragged my eldest son through a tidal wave and watched Jah-Lilah nearly die, I’ve thought of nothing besides how I could prevent that from happening again.” The mare relates. The memories came unbidden - earth broken by the hands of a God, demons loosed upon her own kind, Corvus in the moment before she transported him - they assault her without leniency, give every soft corner a new shadow along her face where the maturity of her seven years is beginning to show. “I have seen things, living here - in Beqanna, that would drive a mother to consider killing her own child, if only to keep him from living in a world so horribly twisted.”
“And yet,” She smiles, none too eager to avoid that crippling darkness which seemed to haunt her on colder, lonelier nights, “here I stand; more than likely pregnant myself with a family and few stragglers who look to me for guidance.” She ends, incredulous that her journey had led her here, with so many to fill a life once devoid of connection. “I’m sure you know plenty about that yourself, though, your grace.” The little mare laughs, remembering all too well how the title had irked Gryffen. With Amet, the tone is less scathing and even bordering reverent respect. “If the shoe fits …” She ponders.
The tenor of Hyaline’s lapping shore soothes her; Circinae has never been so close to the water aside from her hidden den in Taiga and even then, the briny sea was never a favorite gateway. Accompanied by the late winter songs of birds scattered through the picturesque landscape, Hyaline is making quite the impression. “We - my family and I - need somewhere permanent. Others would use us; welcome us in as refugees only to demand activity and loyalty. Some would turn us away for the company we keep. But you,” She pauses, finding that austerity has overcome her features in this rare encounter, “you have kept attention and focus on your own people and that is why I find myself here today.”
He is a King, in his own right, so Circinae will give to him what she has never given to another. She bows, curves her navy-veiled neck and tucks her head close to her chest, and offers a request: “Let me bring my people here and fill your Kingdom to overflowing, save us from destitution,” She says, head rising so that her crystalline eyes might relay the passion in her voice, “and Hyaline will know a peace like she has never known. Those who could destroy it, would tremble to threaten it.”
Circinae
