She is headed home, finally. Many nights and many more days have passed since she came to be washed up on the shore elsewhere and Circinae, the green-trimmed-navy mare, is more than ready for her semi-vacation to be at its end. The twins, tangling amongst themselves behind her, no doubt shared in her eagerness to be anywhere besides where they’d been. Everything new was exciting to children.
 
She had wanted to return directly to Taiga, cutting out the unnecessary length of travel between the River and her kingdom by teleporting. When she’d jumped, though, and found herself on the bank which divided the Forest from the redwoods, she only had one foal beside her instead of two. One could imagine how distraught she’d been. Her little breach boy had been left behind and was waiting worriedly when she returned to him, but it was how she learned that she could only take one creature at a time. Even magic had its limitations.

Reunited on the banks with her eldest twin she checks them both for signs of distress, nosing each of them carefully should she miss something with her eyes. She’s fretful (a new mother) and it shows. It’s only when the smell of something distinctly male nearby drifts on a passing breeze that she stalls and picks her head up, ears alert and eyes bright, to see who it might be. A dark stallion with his back turned, gazing intently at something she cannot place. Her ears shift, then her eyes, and from afar she can now see the lonely girl that seems to draw him in. His stance looks so … familiar.

Without even thinking about the repercussions she moves ahead, stealthily graceful on slender legs that support her stout, pony body. Circy’s twins trail behind, knowing instinctually to stick close even though she doesn’t order them to. Casually, her face molds back to the normality that it was before. A few strides away she calls out, “Hello there!” with a polite, unassuming smile to match, “You look lost, perhaps I can be of some help?” The three of them seem picturesque as they come to a rest but the little wolf doesn’t mind. If it seems to others that she’s no threat, then she’s doing a fabulous job of wearing her mask.

Circinae laughs at him. With her neck bulging and her eyes closed she throws her pretty head back and laughs right in his face. The mother of twins should thank him, really, (it's been awhile since she’s had that gut-shaking feeling of pure mirth) but she’s too busy hiccuping the last of those airy chuckles free to speak. “My, you’re a scary individual, aren’t you?” She breaths sarcastically, flicking her tail once for emphasis. “So moody on such a beautiful day!” The bicolored mare chirps.

She gives a terse shake of her head, then, but offers her nose anyway as if to prove his jab held no weight in her thoughts. Words were empty air. “As for your obvious doubt over my abilities as a protector - we can test your theory anytime you’d like.” The little woman stabs back, a warm smile still languidly stretched across her mouth, though her eyes have taken a harder glint. “But I don’t think you’d like the results too much.” She taunts, her words sharp like nettling barbs that cling to skin and belly alike. Not once does her gaze stray, even as she steps aside to expose the babes at her heel.

The two only peer warily back, silent in their childish confusion.

Circinae is confident, however. The Taigan is playing a dangerous game - hoping that her call on his bluff would prove fruitless. Still, she’s willing to bet that at least one of the boys is hiding a secret trait and that together, the three of them could manage one depressing, anti-social stallion. Besides, the woods at her back are all the comfort she needs. A good wager, she thinks. “Or, you could alleviate my boredom for a bit by telling me who let you out of your cage with such a large stick rammed up your backside?”

Her children giggle at that one, leaving the shifter to shamelessly join in. It would be a terrible pity if this one man was sour and lacked a sense of humor. “Circinae.” She finally introduces herself, “The blue-tipped one is Crevan and the green-tipped one is Corvus.” She finishes, satisfied to at least have a moment's respite from the everyday humdrum.