She had found herself alone as of late. She was four now, an adult in the eyes of wolves and yet she felt as if much of her childhood had been squandered. Yes, she was capable of hunting and even fishing but her status within the pack had much to be desired. Thus, she desired to fulfill her father's tasks. She already had a little tidbit about a potential member, but the task was to find out about the other pack members. Determined as ever, she wandered amid the pines and trees seeking out any new face she might find. Maradona did not stumble upon Snowshoe, but rather his short barks were caught in her ears. She raised her head, sniffed the wind in hopes to have any clue as to the owner of the voice but the winds were just slightly off and offered little insight into who she might be meeting.

Long black legs move without any issue, confident as this had been her home for the last three years. She knew every inch and nook and cranny. Still this was a foreign voice and she answered it with a series of short yips. She was coming, she would spend time with this packmate unknown. As she entered the small glade she could only assume that the petite mostly white wolf was the owner of the barks she had heard only minutes before. Her body language was relaxed, though on the inside she was slightly nervous. Her tail swayed back and forth in greeting before she sat down on the ground a comfortable distance before the lighter wolfess.

There's a wolfish grin that alights on her features as she tilts her head up to absorb more the suns rays for a moment before glancing back at Snowshoe. Maradona was doing her best to not show any of the anxiety that she always had a twinge of beneath her skin. "It's a beautiful day, don't you think?" Around them birds sang love songs, or claimed their territory, or sang about the heat. There was a squirrel in the tree above Snowshoe that was too far up to be concerned about their jaws around it's neck. It was almost comical to the young adult that nature seemed to instinctively know the difference between a hungry wolf and one that was quite content. She returns her gaze towards Snowshoe, her head tilting just slightly. "I'm Maradona. I don't think we've met yet, but I'm here to remedy that situation." Another flashy grin was painted upon her features. She was finally settling into her own skin, her confidence still shaky but improved from the angsty teenager she had been before. Perhaps she had inherited more of her father's silver tongue than initially thought.

My tongue
will taste of gin and malicious intent