Yes, of course my brother enjoyed such things as I had - I do not know if I should have ever doubted such a thing. After all, we had come from the same creators, had been born together and experienced several milestones together... it would not make sense for us to be anything other than alike. Still, we are different and whereas I observed so hungrily, I caught the movement of his paws that dared him closer. It had been impossible for me to not stare at them, almost daring them to take him further into the sand - I wanted to see what it was like, and yet I could not quite grasp the courage yet to move myself. If he had lead the way, we could have become unstoppable together and yet, Maradona had other plans for us. It was why I watched her through narrowed eyes, not only for I was uncertain as to who she truly was. After all, she must be blamed for having stopped our exploration at that time.

I had noticed my brother tumble, and I had found myself moving to try and cover him from her view - she had no right to see him in such a state, I figured. As my brother, I was obliged to protect him from all harm, including the judgmental gaze of another. Rather than laugh or jeer over his paw's inability to stay firm, I throw him a quick glance of assurance, motioning for him to rise and stand beside me though he does so without my beckoning. Yes, there could be no denying that Praetor was my brother for we moved as one, instilling each other's will onto Maradona it would have seemed. Together, we stood, probing her for answers and watching her with mistrust. Vesper is the other who had been born with us; she had been there when my eyes and ears had opened to the world. Still, she smelt of my parents and the loam that was our den and thus, I would listen to her.

After she spoke, I remained silent for some moments, casting a questioning glance to Praetor. It sounded believable, after all, and certainly she was right about us being the only brothers. Still, I wished to see whether or not he believed her like I did; whether or not, however, I would give her my name for I did not appreciate being... unknown to her. I stood forward, meeting her gaze as best as I could before I tried my hardest to sound as confident, and appear as confident, as my parents and she.

"I am Judas. Do we have any more siblings?"

Yes, I wanted to know for if there was one - Maradona - then surely there were more. I looked up at her as hopeful as ever, my head tilted slightly as I awaited for her answer. It did not occur to me that she could have easily swayed us in those moments - we were young, impressionable and yet... I had found myself trusting her for the words she spoke and the scents her pelt held. Still, if Praetor did not trust her, I would certainly have my reservations. Behind my proud stance, I was still young and uncertain of the world and those in it; a small part of me still knew her to be some kind of threat even if I did not acknowledge it.

She spoke then of the ocean and I lit up almost instantly; my tail waved behind me as I crept back to stand aligned with Praetor once more. It was obvious that I was eager at the mere mention of the ocean and yet, I had to be certain. Though I kept my eyes on Maradona, I slid my muzzle close to my brother's ear to deliberate with him quietly.

"We should let her show us the ocean. It will stop us from getting into trouble with mother and father, I think. What do you think?"

I remained close to him, meeting his gaze with determination. Had he thought the same thing? For the most part, my uncertainty of the ocean had been the potential of being in trouble. It had been one of my first lessons as a child: being reprimanded had never been a good thing. It had to be avoided, and if we could avoid it by using another, or our own minds... then that would be better, right?

"Will you show it all to us? I want to... understand it."

I had barely looked away from Praetor when I had asked, once more stepping forward with all intentions to get close to enough to reach her. If she hesitated, I would reach out and grasp at the fur of her leg, pulling back gently so that she would be beckoned forward.