Terror. She could feel it radiate off of her brother in his sleep. Adonai cracked an eye open, her body stretched out languidly next to their mother. She observed him with a sort of aloofness that was a bit troubling for a young girl; there was no sympathy or concern in her icy gaze, only muted curiosity. The girl shifted closer to her mother when Pagan awoke, hiding her peering gaze in the gloom of the den. Others acted differently when they knew that they were being watched, and so it was best to be discreet- after all, she could slip out quietly after him, and make her presence known when she wanted it to.
Adonai waited a few moments until the quiet sound of pawsteps faded, being replaced by the peaceful sounds of the ocean, the distant cawing of gulls and the rhythmic sound of waves against the shore. She rose to her feet, moving quietly from the den and out into the early morning air. Their mother was not incredibly watchful, as they were well protected here, and both smart enough to know to avoid the slippery cliffs or the sea in an angry storm. She was content with their surroundings, perhaps the sea and sand was in her blood as she felt wholly comfortable staring out across the ocean or playing in the sand. Pagan, though, was beset by wanderlust, always heading towards the forest or somewhere else with more varied terrain.
And that was where he was going today. The masked girl followed at a comfortable distance, not quite bothering to hide her presence but not making herself known either. Adonai was simply watching, her gaze sharp and intense, something inherited from her mother's side of the family. She knew that there was something different about her and Pagan, some sinister secret that lurked below the surface of every whispered word. But secrets were often secret for a reason, and the girl wasn't about to press for answers when she knew that they would surface eventually.
The seagulls heard every secret, after all, and they never remained quiet for long. Adonai paused when Pagan stopped, leaning up against the trunk of a tree and seeming to have a peaceful moment all to himself. She did not interrupt, not yet, and instead watched him quizzically for a moment. He seemed, at times, to have a soul far older than their age allowed. She did care for him, but only in a distant sort of way, as if she was an ambivalent spirit watching things from far away. And so she let him have his moment of peace before she approached, bumping her nose against his hindquarters before sidling up next to him.
