Circinae
“The boys …” Circinae trails, warmed through and a bit distracted by the blend of colors around her. Blinking, she comes to reluctantly; there was work to be done yet and Canaan had been kept away for far too long as it was. “Crevan, Corvus … Taiga.” The thoughts come and go much like the wind which begins to rise in tempo around them. As if in answer to her tumultuous feelings a snarl echoes from the treeline - Crevan, without a doubt. The emerald mare disentangles herself (she’s forced to at this point, the breeze is whipping itself into a hardened frenzy and she’s no match for her eldest sons wild strength) and rounds on her twins with ears half-sunk.
The sight of them twists her stomach into knots. Corvus, the first son and so by association the more reserved, mature son, has already turned tail from the group. Responsibility from a young age and Circinae’s own inability to guide him through his training has hardened the youth with bitter resolve which he displays quietly now. Unlike his rash counterpart, speech was unnecessary to drive a point home and his leaving speaks volumes that words could not. The mother’s heart begins to tear but, space and respect are his to command. She would always love them, no matter how much they might resent her for it.
Her younger twin, however, could use a beating. Crevan had always been quick to push his mother (and brother, for that matter) to the brink of insanity - she cursed the gods for allowing such a reckless, sullen animal to have a second skin and the ability to breathe fire, at that. Every mother has her regrets and the unspoken one she harbors very near to her heart is the wish that Corvus had been given the gift of shifting. It pains her to watch Crevan now; the way he believes he’s entitled to answers just from a little, barking threat.
“Corvus would have made a wonderful wolf.” Circinae grumbles internally. In warning her bright eyes flash and she shifts, the action so swift that the sound of skin ripping briefly overturns the wail of wind. “If you have any objections, you can keep them to yourself.” The mahogany she-wolf growls, once settled. Crevan is nearly three times her girth but the pack dynamic is more complicated than that; he’ll have to challenge a lifetime of knowing her as Alpha - to do something of that nature would destroy their dependence and trust on one another, the hunt would forever be ruined.
Crevan, wounded by her newly shifted alliance, submits. He’ll take it hard, he takes everything hard but the Wolf-of-Water won’t stand for insubordination, especially when his sire was here to see it. Canaan was probably one more scene away from deeming her the most incapable mother that ever lived - if only he knew! “Now,” She tells her child, tight-lipped, “you can come and ask questions like an adult, or-” She’s cut off by her youngest turning tail. One step behind his brother, just like he’s always wanted. With a sigh the little predator lets her head droop; what could she possibly say?
“Taiga is gone. We have nothing but each other now.”
Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me