After her less than friendly encounter with that girl, Viora, and her little friend, she had been feeling rather... well, agitated! And it hadn't gone away since that day. In fact, her agitation seemed to worsen with each passing hour. It was just ridiculous! She had born a princess, so why did that girl not give her the appropriate respect? Plus, she'd proven she wasn't totally awful at fighting but still... it seemed the girl was stupid or (dare she admit it?) Cersei was doing something wrong. She'd even been avoiding Sinclair, convinced that he probably thought she was some blind fool too. Even though she knew it wasn't true about him at least, she just couldn't help but think it. It was frustrating to say the least.

Desperate to burn her anxious energy, she had once more taken off to patrol the borders. If she was doing something wrong, she'd need to figure out what that was and, well, be the best at that too. Maybe she hadn't been doing her patrols well enough? Fast enough, maybe? She'd see about that! It was a good way to distract herself too, zooming along the borders and sniffing at every new sight and thing. There wasn't much to inspect, really, for it seemed her mother and father had already made their rounds, leaving little more for her to do than to merely exercise herself. Still, it felt good to do so. At three years, she'd nearly grown into her once lanky form and her muscles had ached from the sudden growth.

As she rose once more to face onward, she caught sight of a dark form in the near distance. The figure was none too easy to recognize - the way she walked, the splattering of crimson over her undersides and the smudging of white gave her away - her mother! It seemed like so long since she had spent quality time with her mother, and well, she was feeling awfully relate-able today. It was just a fact that her mother was more volatile than her mother and today, Cersei was feeling just a little angsty.

Speeding up, she let out a short bark to inform her mother of her arrival as she loped up beside her. She kept her form lower than her mother's, giving her the submission she liked and besides, it was her mother! She was always going to be above her in rank even when she was elderly and resigned from the throne. She waved her tail behind her, pressing her ears back as she leaned in towards her mother, seeking her tough as she moved along beside her, matching her pace. How odd to think that she almost matched her mother for size, their heights near matching though Cersei would always be lighter, more like her father in that regard. She was born to be fast, not strong. Still, her mother was always so strong...

"Mother."

She addressed her simply, her voice quiet and gentle, the voice of adoration. She paused for a moment, trying to make herself a little more determined looking.

"Mother, I want to be strong like you."

Then, she waited, holding her breath and feeling like a fool.