War had erupted in Beqanna, and Zojja, naturally, had not stuck around to let the ripples reach as far as the neutral stomping grounds that the strife-ridden land had to offer - it wasn't as if she held any particular allegiance (although Porrim would no doubt have been outraged to hear that her daughter did not, in fact, side specifically with the Amazons - let alone that her close personal acquaintance had been the one to light the blaze in the first place), and she had, by this point, become aware of telltale stirring in her midriff. Ah, yes. What had he referred to foals as? Rugrats. Well, it had been rather inevitable - not unlike the war; apparently the stirrings around the Meadow hadn't merely been baseless posturing after all - but she hadn't particularly wanted to lose the child, so she'd made herself scarce, as was her specialty. She didn't wander terribly far, this time. Just enough to stay out of the way, until Lupei was done playing war games (or so she assumed - he'd all but vanished, himself, and given the Chamber's part in the conflict, it was all too easy to guess where he'd gone).
Staying close had been, in hindsight, an excellent choice. One day the gray mare realized, with a jolt, that there were one too many sets of legs thumping merrily against her sides. Several things fell into place very quickly - the appetite, the restlessness, her size. Zojja had made a belabored flight back to her mother's favorite haunt in the meadow (on the way by, she saw the smoldering remnants of the initial battle, stark against the snow - it made her wonder, not for the first time, how Lupei was faring), but Porrim could give her little advice. Twins, she'd commented sympathetically, as though her daughter did not already realize this. You really do do everything the hard way, don't you, dear? Zojja did not particularly prefer seeking her mother out for advice. This was a prominent example as to why.
Unable to dredge up much unbiased information on the war, and - quite frankly - annoyed with Rattlebones, who insisted on nosing at her bulging sides in a bid to get the twins kicking as she tried in vain to hold a conversation with their mother, Zojja had left again. Not for long, mind you. When the day finally came, and the dull ache surfaced in her back, the shifter mare had vented her restlessness in a long trudge back to the Forest. It was inevitable, of course, but at least the long walk had felt like she was putting the labor off for a little longer. Eventually, tucked away in a thicket, she'd delivered a strapping green colt, followed not long after by his (rather smaller) blue brother, splashed with a very familiar shade of green. Wyrm. Kudu. She sort of regretted that Lupei wasn't around to discuss names with, but the war, insofar as she knew, was still in full swing. With any luck, he'd been able to hold his own so far.
They'd shown off their talents rather early on - Wyrm, gleefully, managed to initiate an hour-long chase after unexpectedly mastering the form of a sparrow, of all things (much to Zojja's intense displeasure, as this required leaving a distraught Kudu behind while she shifted into a hawk and struck out after the older twin). Although she had expected the smaller colt to eventually follow suit with the shapeshifting, Kudu had - utterly bizarrely - tipped his hand by bursting into flame one day, effectively scaring the shit out of both his mother and his twin (the latter of which he chased around Zojja in circles, still on fire, laughing uproariously at his brother's hysterics). Eventually he had extinguished with nary a mark on him, leaving his mother to puzzle wearily over where on earth he'd gotten that from - certainly not her side of the family.
By the time Lupei comes looking for them, they have settled down somewhat. (Only somewhat.) The war, too, seems to have fallen into a lull - Zojja has ventured out into the Meadow a few times so as to let the twins meet with other foals, although their, er, intense enthusiasm with their talents tends to make most encounters end rather poorly. Though she hasn't quite figured out what to do with Kudu, she recalls having settled into her own abilities by the time she was a yearling - she has faith that Wyrm, at the very least, will be able to do the same.
When the black wolf comes calling, Zojja is downwind, just beyond the border of the forest. She pauses momentarily when the slinking shape appears, watching as he noses fruitlessly along the treeline, and then whickers loudly. In an instant, the gray mare is a dun wolf, and she lopes forward to meet Lupei with a wide grin. "Hello, stranger!" Her tail wags - harder than it often would, really; she's relieved to see him still standing - and she noses affectionately at his ruff. She's missed him more than she thought. "Been having fun with your troublemaking?"
From behind her comes a shrill whinny - the twins had lost track of her in her haste to see Lupei. Zojja cranes her neck to watch as the duo come tumbling out of the brush. Wyrm first, with Kudu hot on his heels (no pun intended - he is, thankfully, keeping himself extinguished for now). The she-wolf's mouth quirks in a wry smile as she draws back to get a better look at the larger male, tail still waving gently. "Speaking of troublemaking," she remarks dryly, "I suppose I have you to thank... meet your sons. Wyrm," she supplies, as the green colt extends his muzzle to the pair of wolves, apparently unconcerned. "And..." She pauses, watching Kudu hover suspiciously behind his brother, and then moves to nudge the blue-and-green colt into view with the flat of her skull. "Kudu," she finishes. "They're quite the handful... must take after you," she adds, grinning.
OOC; Aaah sorry about the novel, rofl. Filling in time stretches is busy work. :p Also I dunno what sort of personality you planned on giving Wyrm, so I winged it - feel free to ignore it in the future if you had something different in mind. :p
Staying close had been, in hindsight, an excellent choice. One day the gray mare realized, with a jolt, that there were one too many sets of legs thumping merrily against her sides. Several things fell into place very quickly - the appetite, the restlessness, her size. Zojja had made a belabored flight back to her mother's favorite haunt in the meadow (on the way by, she saw the smoldering remnants of the initial battle, stark against the snow - it made her wonder, not for the first time, how Lupei was faring), but Porrim could give her little advice. Twins, she'd commented sympathetically, as though her daughter did not already realize this. You really do do everything the hard way, don't you, dear? Zojja did not particularly prefer seeking her mother out for advice. This was a prominent example as to why.
Unable to dredge up much unbiased information on the war, and - quite frankly - annoyed with Rattlebones, who insisted on nosing at her bulging sides in a bid to get the twins kicking as she tried in vain to hold a conversation with their mother, Zojja had left again. Not for long, mind you. When the day finally came, and the dull ache surfaced in her back, the shifter mare had vented her restlessness in a long trudge back to the Forest. It was inevitable, of course, but at least the long walk had felt like she was putting the labor off for a little longer. Eventually, tucked away in a thicket, she'd delivered a strapping green colt, followed not long after by his (rather smaller) blue brother, splashed with a very familiar shade of green. Wyrm. Kudu. She sort of regretted that Lupei wasn't around to discuss names with, but the war, insofar as she knew, was still in full swing. With any luck, he'd been able to hold his own so far.
They'd shown off their talents rather early on - Wyrm, gleefully, managed to initiate an hour-long chase after unexpectedly mastering the form of a sparrow, of all things (much to Zojja's intense displeasure, as this required leaving a distraught Kudu behind while she shifted into a hawk and struck out after the older twin). Although she had expected the smaller colt to eventually follow suit with the shapeshifting, Kudu had - utterly bizarrely - tipped his hand by bursting into flame one day, effectively scaring the shit out of both his mother and his twin (the latter of which he chased around Zojja in circles, still on fire, laughing uproariously at his brother's hysterics). Eventually he had extinguished with nary a mark on him, leaving his mother to puzzle wearily over where on earth he'd gotten that from - certainly not her side of the family.
By the time Lupei comes looking for them, they have settled down somewhat. (Only somewhat.) The war, too, seems to have fallen into a lull - Zojja has ventured out into the Meadow a few times so as to let the twins meet with other foals, although their, er, intense enthusiasm with their talents tends to make most encounters end rather poorly. Though she hasn't quite figured out what to do with Kudu, she recalls having settled into her own abilities by the time she was a yearling - she has faith that Wyrm, at the very least, will be able to do the same.
When the black wolf comes calling, Zojja is downwind, just beyond the border of the forest. She pauses momentarily when the slinking shape appears, watching as he noses fruitlessly along the treeline, and then whickers loudly. In an instant, the gray mare is a dun wolf, and she lopes forward to meet Lupei with a wide grin. "Hello, stranger!" Her tail wags - harder than it often would, really; she's relieved to see him still standing - and she noses affectionately at his ruff. She's missed him more than she thought. "Been having fun with your troublemaking?"
From behind her comes a shrill whinny - the twins had lost track of her in her haste to see Lupei. Zojja cranes her neck to watch as the duo come tumbling out of the brush. Wyrm first, with Kudu hot on his heels (no pun intended - he is, thankfully, keeping himself extinguished for now). The she-wolf's mouth quirks in a wry smile as she draws back to get a better look at the larger male, tail still waving gently. "Speaking of troublemaking," she remarks dryly, "I suppose I have you to thank... meet your sons. Wyrm," she supplies, as the green colt extends his muzzle to the pair of wolves, apparently unconcerned. "And..." She pauses, watching Kudu hover suspiciously behind his brother, and then moves to nudge the blue-and-green colt into view with the flat of her skull. "Kudu," she finishes. "They're quite the handful... must take after you," she adds, grinning.
OOC; Aaah sorry about the novel, rofl. Filling in time stretches is busy work. :p Also I dunno what sort of personality you planned on giving Wyrm, so I winged it - feel free to ignore it in the future if you had something different in mind. :p