They moved in unity, a brisk morning trot through the free lands. If the winds were right, the salt on their fur would be easily distinguished from the other packs. They were of Glorall. The younger of the pair held a petite frame, a dancer's body with long legs that were certainly capable of eating up land at a pace faster than the other. Still, the younger wolf clearly shortened her strides to keep up with her elder. The elder was built for power, to withstand attacks and give out debilitating blows. Caligula and Maradona moved in unison, a matched pair. It was clear to see they were related, the young and the old. They moved as if they had been in the Moladion in their lives, and to be fair, Caligula had been in Moladion far longer than most. She had survived the Meteor. She had been born here. She had killed here. She had loved here. Maradona was born in the free lands and on occasion still craved the relative freedom of the loner lands. It was her daughter that had prompted Caligula to journey away from their home. There was uprisings and ends of dynasties. There was always strife it seemed.
When they had reached the banks, Maradona fell into a play bow. "Beat you to the island!" Caligula had obliged her daughter, a smile silently etched into her features and a tail wag to designate her acceptance of such a challenge. While her daughter plunged head first, Caligula waded into the water until she was forced to swim. Maradona had been swimming the river that ran through Glorall. Caligula knew how to swim but couldn't help to think of the alligators of Iromar. Swimming was not her forte. When they reached the shore, it was clear that Maradona was the winner. She laughed and danced around. Caligula could not help but to think how good it was to see her daughter laugh and play. How often had she seen that in Glorall? It was always Cersei who was so happy-go-lucky while Maradona felt the yolk of dominance chain her to the more serious side of life. Perhaps it would be time to bring up to Tesseract who they would be grooming to be heir.
She climbed upon the shore and Maradona dashed away, allowing those long legs of her to eat up the ground on the small island. Caligula stood on the shores, before she shook out the water from her tricolor coat. The white mark over the nape of her neck right down to the red of her legs was soaked and barely dried by her shaking. And yet, Caligula noticed that they were not alone on this tiny island. It was something that Caligula went for first. It was wet paw prints in the sand that the wind had yet to blow away. They were not her own, and they were not her daughters. Instinctively, her nose went to the air, and when that came up empty she put her nose to the ground. There was no recognition there but a definite fresh scent. The playful, at ease creature vanished into one more on guard.
Maradona's navy blue eyes turned back to watch her mother stiffen. She knew that their solstice of fun was gone. Mother had found something concerning and it caused Maradona to slip back into her more serious form. She trotted back up to her mother, pressing close for a moment before looking at the evidence her dam had gathered. It was then that Maradona called out. "Who is out there? Show yourself!" A demanding request but judging by the size of the paws, both Maradona and Caligula were larger than their hidden guest.
CALIGULA & MARADONA
who will cast the first stone? |