-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
Circinae had been waiting. Rising early to meander through the tangle of jungle growth and pausing every now and then to admire the bold livery her bird inhabitants sported, the dual-colored Keeper of Ischia was only briefly wasting time in an attempt to calm her otherwise restless thoughts. “Where is Corvus?” She thinks, sighing wistfully as the curve of shore breaks the untouched green backdrop into an outcropping of jaded palms and wispy seagrass, “Where is Nyxa, and Crevan?”
Her children, the anchor of her life and purpose to her every waking moment, are nowhere to be found.
So she waits; and while she does Kelsie seems to find their paths in alignment and chooses to draw alongside the leader he’d chosen, but never spoken to. In acknowledgement Circinae tilts her head aside, away from the roaring sea and its manifold mysteries, to where he pauses near her. “A good morning, I agree.” She replies, completing the action with a soft smile. “I find it hard to dislike them, if you know what I mean.” Circy offers, glancing away again to resume her earlier watch over the breaking waves.
“No natural predators, temperate weather year-round, fresh water for those who aren’t kin to fish,” She chuckles lowly, “it almost seems too good to be true.”
It was, but she doesn’t wish to indulge Kelsie with these ideas. There’s ever the constant pressure on her shoulders that comes with being Keeper, or Leader, or Queen - however they saw fit to think of it. Ruan had let his duties slip into nonchalance, Gryffen inspired fear and from that fear, savage loyalty, while Amet had built a throne and then found himself much lonelier on that pedestal than he had expected. She sighs again, a deep and withdrawn sound that relays her feelings without words. “Do you have children, Kelsie?” She asks rather suddenly, the stark pale blue of her gaze snapping around to pin him with intrepid curiosity.
He didn’t seem the type, at least to her anyways.
Circinae
@[Kelsie]