He'd set the spars up for a myriad of reasons, each one beneficial not only to him but to the pack as a whole. Cersei, on one hand, needed to learn how to expand her energy and if she had any inkling on ever ruling a pack, she'd need to know how to fight and well; Sinclair, too, had shown eagerness to become a warrior of sorts, and yet all the pleasant manners and dedication meant nothing if he'd never learnt the basics. Plus, he'd been curios of their relationship for some time, having seen them spend... quite some time together - a spar would test that, and prove if his intuition had been correct or not. It didn't matter, not really, but it had made the decision to pair the two up easier at least. Maradona, too, would be squaring off against another soon enough, be it her sister or either Viora of Sinclair. All of them were fast approaching three years old, and soon they'd be expected to pull much more than their own weight in a pack setting. He had high hopes, he couldn't lie to himself.

Most of his time had been spent tending to his own wound, with his family not so far from him but now, he had grown tired of merely waiting around. Even with his limp, he was determined to oversee the spar though he'd keep silent throughout. Right now, his only job was to follow Cersei to the arranged spot, having directed her to track the boy rather than go by what she knew. It didn't take them that long, and he settled in a short distance away, lowering to his belly and stretching out to relax in the autumn sun.

"You shall begin when either of you is ready. We shan't stop until one of you pulls out or until one of you is pinned. If you wish to stop, merely call for it."

He passed each of the younger wolves a reassuring grin before resting his head atop his paws, his eyes lazily flickering between the ocean and the pair. He had invited Caligula along, even Maradona and their youngest litter, though he was not so phased if they came. For now, it was just between Cersei and Sinclair.

Cersei, of course, had been anxious the entire morning, seemingly unable to keep her paws still. Already, she'd grilled her own father over his recent battle, attempting to pester out every detail she possibly could. Alas, whatever secrets to victory he had known, he'd done a good job keeping them from her. It forced her to think of her own paths to victory, even though she was unsure as to whether she should let Sinclair win or not - it seemed silly to let him and yet it seemed just as silly not to. Wouldn't him winning make him feel good? Wouldn't it make him happy? And yet, losing for her could mean so much, too! What if her father disapproved? Or Sinclair thought her a loser? There was a good reason for her anxiousness!

Part of it seemed to go away when she spotted Sinclair, though, his pale form standing out against the backdrop of the waves and sand. When her father wasn't looking, she flashed him the broadest smile she could, her tail waving all too excitedly behind her as she dashed forward to meet him, only stopping some foot or two from him. Her smile turned more mischievous then, a silent challenge as she wiggled in anticipation. The words of her father practically went unheard, only a single ear twisting back to hear them as she rolled her eyes - yeah, right! They didn't need him to tell them how to spar! Thanks to Cersei, their playing had never exactly been the most... placid of things.

"You're it!"

She winked at him playfully before she leapt back, wiggling her behind in the air playfully for a moment in a play bow before she rose. Distancing herself to some five feet or so, she began to lope in a circle, her tail bouncing along behind her as she eyed him wearily. By now, her father had probably noticed that it was more a game than it was anything else, which was true. Though, she hoped Sinclair took it seriously - she always imagined him as a knight, some kind of valiant warrior who fought with honor and grace. He'd look good with a high rank, she thought, as she circled around him the second time, taunting him forward.