The journey seems to get easier every time. At first, Circinae had been afraid of the letting the water take ahold, so unpredictable was its current and fortitude. The waves had a pension for sending her odd places and, half of the time, she’d find herself teleported midway out to sea where she’d simply start all over again. Frustrating, to say in the least, but those months of toil and mishap perfecting her gift had been worth the effort. Now, each spot that she knew was safe for transport was locked away inside of her mind; filed there along with the hundreds of other safe doorways her power could send her through. No distance was too far in Beqanna, no place hidden from her.

Each time, however, she closes her eyes.

It’s a matter of seeing with the mind, of opening that ability to trust instinct above eyesight. Now, with her neck intertwined about Jah-Lilah’s, she’s got her eyes firmly shut and her ears filled with a roaring sound. The two are swept away, breathtakingly quick, and transported immediately to the rough shores of Nerine. This place is much like the other that they left; briny water lapping at their knees, a sloping inclination of land. The one difference, though, is the cliffs. With a small shake of her narrow head, Circinae blinks softly and peers up at their impressive, grey heights. “We’re here.” She murmurs, unlocking herself from the concrete death grip she and Jah had shared. 

Above them, gulls cry havoc and the wind whips angrily against the slate rock. Her tail has billowed out behind her, a filmy veil of navy blue that, soaked through, seems almost black. “I thought of Canaan and this is where we were dumped?” The wolfish mare muses, her tone warmed by a pleasantly curious lilt. “Odd.” 

Undulating against her chest, the cold of the sea has begun to numb her legs so the pony-mare pushes herself ahead, dainty hooves digging ardently into the sand while her forward motion creates ripples of water that stream alongside her. “Are you alright?” She asks Jah-Lilah, throwing her head over her shoulder to assess her fiery companion. This was only the second time she’d transported another horse, and the first that was adult-sized. “And the pegasi around here think flying is fast!” She laughs aloud, happy to simply be here, whole, and with a goal in mind.

The shore and her craggy caverns meet them soon enough and, once breached, Circy gives a hearty shake for good measure before peering out to either side of the beach. Their task, which before had seemed so hopeful and simple, now seemed as impossibly bare and never-ending as this shore. “Well,” The teleporter sighs, “Which direction should we start in?”

It takes very little to remember. Nights spent alone, nights spent with Raeanne. Nights when she forgot who she was and the wolf inside of her ran free. Days that took all her strength to make it through, days she wished could've never ended. The feel of water on her skin, the smell of her sons when they first opened their eyes to new life.

She remembers it all.

But Canaan? Can she remember him, or is it a sort of hope that she remembers now? Perhaps her golden love hadn’t meant to come home those winters long ago. Maybe it was his time to fly beyond their rough seas and out into the unknown, a place even she has seen once. Maybe … maybe this journey was fruitless. “No.” She thinks. “Ellyse had been certain, and Canaan was waiting for you when you returned.” The little mare recalls. Again, Jah-Lilah is right; Circinae must take the first step and discover an ending on her own, no matter the consequence.

With a huff of determination she shifts. Drained as she is from using her gift on them both, the frigid seawater has awoken her energy once more and pricked her skin into numbness. Her pads won’t feel the strain she’s about to put on them as she leaps ahead, to the right, and begins to lope down the shoreline. Her nose, sandy and twisted into a serious frown, is pointed to the sky and she follows it now while the two begin their circuit around the great horn of Nerine. There’s hope yet that she’ll catch scent of him on this wild breeze and, when … if she does, perhaps it will lead them to an answer.

She can only hope. “Should we split up?” The little brown wolf muses aloud, knowing full and well that her lightning-wielding companion could protect herself. “You’d know him from description right away - honey golden, with a dark mane to set the picture nicely. His wings are beautiful, Jah.” She sighs, all the emotions of two years beginning to rise. “Mahogany, almost like my coat. You’ve seen Crevan and Corvus - he’s their maker. Looks just like them.” The lithe predator laughs.

Ahead, the wind drags up the beach and rolls against the stones, breaking in waves that ruffle the fur about her intricate face. The wolf pauses. “Wait. I smell something.” She murmurs, hesitating for a second longer before racing ahead again - this time double-speed until the sand beneath her is kicked up in sprays. “Canaan!” She howls, not even sure if what she’s sensing could be him. She’s blind now, blind with urgency and need. “Canaaaaaan!”

Heaven is tangible. How could it not be when she feels so close to it now? There’s the experience of his lips, his face, buried deep into her fur (if that isn’t heaven she’s not sure what is) mixed with the sensation of her soul nearly bursting free from her body. Her back arches, tail quivering for a moment with the simple pleasure of his muffled voice, his smell, his presence, and then she's shifting upwards to hold him as equals might. It feels more numbing than anything and in her eagerness to be near to Canaan she finds that her colored nose is searching every dip and rise of his body. Her lips, unable to express the joy drowning her heart, murmur soft compliments and wordless moans.

He’s alive. Alive and well, and apparently missing her too.

Still, observant as ever, he notices Jah-Lilah and for the moment, Circinae’s tender affection is laid aside. Blinking rapidly she retreats, (she hadn’t even noticed that she’d been crying) though she doesn’t pull away. “Why, yes.” The trembling mare states, head tilting over her own shoulder while her bruised-blue mane tumbles curtain-like over the crest of her neck. It strikes her then, how natural Jah-Lilah’s presence has become over the past few months. So natural that it didn’t seem odd to have her here, sharing the moment of lovers returned to one another. “This is Jah-Lilah,” The pony-mare croons, choosing now to step away from her golden paramour.

Instinctively, unthinkingly, she reaches out for the powerful mare. How could she ever explain to Canaan that, were it not for her constant comfort, Circy might not even be here today? The shifter only knows to show him, so she intertwines herself with the third-party member. Around her hind and then slowly curling about her other side, Circy comes to rub caringly against the cinnamon mare before halting gently to her right. Together, they make a rather striking pair. “I owe her much more than I’ll ever be able to repay, so it’s my intention to keep her around.” She laughs.

“Forever.” She thinks, silently, while her eyes bore into Canaan’s. They could discuss time already passed later, though - for now, all she wants is to drink him in. Again, her legs send her back to the comfort of his embrace and it’s there that she finally allows for her walls to crumble. “I thought you had abandoned us. Your sons, me, even your mother, Ellyse.” She murmurs softly into his shoulder, not finding it necessary to explain the details of meeting his dam. Quivering once more the mother begins to weep; it all seemed so unreal, that they should keep meeting one another like this, time after time. How cruelly fate had treated them both!

“Where were you?” She demands, voice thick with anger and exhaustion. Her sparkling eyes flicker back to his face (that angelic, impossibly wonderful face) while her lashes grow heavy with fresh tears. “What happened to you?”