Even having had a litter once herself, it was easy for Aharu'kai to forget just how quickly mortal children grew up. It was a 'blink and you miss it' sort of affair, especially when you weren't directly involved, and when it came to Yehl's litter of rescued orphans, she had definitely not been directly involved. She'd seen them once or twice when they'd been very small, even played with them a little bit, then the next time she'd visited the shrine, they'd been a lanky, mostly-matched set of adolescents with scraggly manes coming in, and that had been...she didn't even know how long ago. Time simply wasn't a very important construct for a god, and like many, she had a way of letting it get away from her. While there were mortals here and there that she was somewhat fond of, there were none she was really, truly attached to on any deep level, so it was easy for her to let them slip out of her mind for awhile, even her own children.
Hell, even her own brother was an afterthought, most days. In all fairness, however, that did hold true for the rest of her littermates as well. Her mother, she did spare a thought for a bit more often, but there was never any urgency about it; after all, they were both immortal, more or less, so...so what if they didn't see each other very often? There was time. She'd get around to it, one of these days. Maybe. For the most part, she drifted, always curious to see more of the world: what might be hidden down that dark passage, or lurk in that dark corner? She wanted to know things, and find things, and keep them for hers. Even if - no, especially if - she had to take them. She could list every last object, small and large, she had ever stolen and crammed into her pack, which, fortuantely for her, never ran out of room and never got any heavier. She couldn't say how it worked; it just did, and always had.
She hadn't stolen absolutely everything she'd stuffed in there, however, and those her memory for wasn't quite as sharp. She knew them when she saw them, sure, but they didn't have as firm a place in her mental inventory, for the most part. Over the years, she'd received some particularly intriguing offerings, and the ones she liked best, she tended to stash away. Much of what was in the pack was wearable, but she never wore any of it, as the point of having it - any of it - wasn't to show it off or bedeck herself in finery. It was just to have it, and to have been quick and clever enough to take it in the first place. So she wore her pack, and her earring, and that was all. That was enough.
Not that she didn't enjoy the offerings she sometimes received, though more than the things themselves, she appreciated the effort and skill that had gone into obtaining them. She didn't have the ready pool of worshippers some gods and goddesses merited just by existing, the deities of far-reaching and outwardly impressive things like the Sun or Water, and so she appreciated the ones she did have, the clever of tongue and quick of paw. Those were hers. Most were naturally inclined to at least some selfishness, and so her shrine hardly overflowed with offerings, but she well understood their reasons. So when they did bring her something, it was almost invariably of note, and often in hope of a blessing. She tended to indulge them.
It had been some months since she'd last visited the mountain cavern that was home to her shrine, and a flitting whim of thought reminded her that she ought to have a look. See if there were any good offerings, any good stories, and maybe prod at her daughter about the state of her little Guild, if she happened to be there. Aharu could easily track her down regardless, as Yehl wore one of her feathers, but she almost never bothered. The girl was fine. Probably. If not, well...s**t happened.
Aharu'kai stepped out of the forest she'd been exploring and into the mountain cavern, phasing from one location to the other with only the most trivial of efforts. She almost felt sorry for mortals, having to go everywhere the long way. Even flight was beyond them, for everyone but the avians. The goddess flicked her wings to shed the slight tingle of magic that accompanied the use of her power and peered into the darkness of the cave. There was no Yehl, and no Tifua either. A mass of white mane stood out starkly against the shadows and a dark pelt, and rosy pink eyes turned to blink quizzically at her. That was - which one again? She'd lost count of the number of times Yehl had told her which of the triplets was which, but the damn girl hadn't helped matters when she'd picked out such similar names for all of them.
Kalagca had nearly dismissed brush of movement in the cavern behind him, ready to attribute it to a mouse or suchlike, but the feeling of something familiar caught at his curiosity, and so he'd turned, and found himself face to face with golden eyes. They were almost an exact match for Yehl's, but they weren't hers, he would have known that in the space of a moment even if the shadowed figure's posture hadn't been different, even without the wings. He'd only seen her a few times over the course of his life, but there was no mistaking that it was Aharu'kai, even without the context of where they were. He remembered those eyes, staring down into his. It was one of the first things he could remember.
"Oh. Hello," he said after a moment, tilting his head just slightly as he regarded her.
"'Oh hello' indeed," she parroted with a smirk. "I suppose if you're here, Yehl must have run off somewhere."
"Mm," he confirmed. Words didn't usually have a habit of escaping him, but here he was. "She's been gone about a week. Did you...need something?"
"No," she answered with a shrug, "Just thought I'd have a look. It's been awhile." Long enough that he looked like a proper lion now, rather than the vague idea of one. Not just a little lump of fuzz and baby fat, delighting at being rolled across the floor. It was a bit disconcerting, actually, especially with the way he was staring at her. "Would you mind...?"
Embarrassingly, it took him a few moments longer than it should have to realize she wanted to be left alone. "Ah, of course not! I'll just, uh. Be outside."
He practically scuttled out into the night air, and thought he might have heard a soft huff of a laugh at his expense behind him.