Maradona stretched, blinking as she was offended that Cersei's rustlings had awoken her. It was night, and everyone should be sleeping this far into the night's dark embrace. She yawned, exposing white canines that so clearly marked her as a two year old. She did not bother to get up and decided that Cersei was crazy (as she so often did). Maradona would not be partner to such insane movements as getting up. They had spent the day patrolling the borders, looking for others that did not belong simply because their Father had asked them too. Cersei liked to pretend that Father favored her over everyone else, but Maradona knew better. Besides, Cersei liked to fancy herself Queen, and boy oh boy the beating that would incur if Mother knew about those thoughts. Maradona knew, if only because much of her time was spent with her dark mother and her wordless lessons. The Mute Queen would not take very kindly to her daughters thinking that they could usurp her. Maradona made sure to patrol the borders as their father had asked but she did not dare to think of herself anything more than the eldest of the royalty's children.

And yet, Cersei persisted in her restless noise and Maradona found herself unable to fall back into the warm folds of her den and the dreams she had been dreaming. Damn Cersei. She got up, stretching out the muscles that had lain dormant for some hours and shaking her dark coat into place. It would seem she was almost a Demon marked creature, and yet in that top line was the silver her father wore so splendidly. She was a mixture of her parents, the dark navy blue eyes shining from beneath the dark black fur that took much of her skin. Maradona looked more like her mother and yet had the build of their father with just a slightly broader chest. The perfect combination, though she was sure that Cersei would disagree. The brat. It wasn't hard to track her sister down, between the noise she created and the fresh scent, Maradona was pretty sure that a bear or mountain lion could track down the spoiled rotten princess if they so desired. Foolish. She bet that Cersei fancied herself quiet too. Perhaps she was, but Maradona knew her sister far too well to be fooled by those footfalls. As she tracked her sister she knew where the lighter colored girl was headed. The beaches. She was relatively positive that the other was probably hunting gulls again. She had laughed the first time when Cersei had come back with tuffs of fur missing.

She increased her speed, with only a little effort in being quiet. She didn't wish to wake up the rest of Glorall but she also slightly wanted to ruin her sisters attempts of stealing eggs. Why? Because she wanted to annoy the annoying Cersei. Maradona slid down the dunes, before trailing behind her sister. It was then that her nose caught the scent of someone decidedly not of Glorall. Was it a scout for another land? Diveen perhaps? No, there was no indicators of any pack that this newcomer could belong to. She closed the distance between herself and her sister quickly. She pressed into Cersei slightly for the briefest of moments before she assumed a more dominant pose. She wouldn't care if Cersei also posed herself in such a way, but this outsider...well, Maradona and Cersei had a right to be there. What right did this ghostly figure have?

Looking at the other, she could tell that she was a yearling. Gangly and awkward. Not that Maradona was any closer to being correctly proportionate. While Cersei had the best intentions with the newcomer, Maradona was a little more reserved dictated by the stiff tail that sailed high over her haunches and the slight raise of the fur on her ruff. The navy eyes bored into the other. She noticed that Riven was seemingly staring at the ocean tides. It had been a wondrous thing at first, but it was something that she accepted and slightly understood at this point. Maradona had lost the ability to see what was so fascinating with the ocean. She stood tall next to her sister, and in truth, they were opposites in this moment. Cersei, the friendly and welcoming. Maradona, the suspicious and withdrawn. She whispered to her sister, "Cersei, don't be an idiot. Be careful." Had her sister forgotten all the rules that they had when they were growing up as loners? Maradona had never forgotten that the world was far harsher place than what those accustomed to pack life were lead to believe. She knew that survival was the only rule in the wilderness. That sometimes it was literally a wolf eat wolf sort of world. She just hoped silently that that sort of world had not presented itself tonight.

My tongue
will taste of gin and malicious intent