The world always seemed to be spinning everlasting webs of confusion and carelessness; nature seemed to carry itself in such a way that completely disregarded the lives that it held close to its bosom. It was, perhaps, the most uncaring and ambivalent caretaker that the yearling could consider. She wondered, at times, why wolves and other creatures were born into this world if only to suffer through a life that would eventually end in the finality of death. The first cautious year of her life had been spent with dark, abyssal secrets hanging over every conversation, hiding behind every crevice, and even lurking just below the waves of the sea that lay just outside her family's den. Long, slender legs and a body that was just beginning to grow into its tasteful, feminine shape carried her over the sands of the beach, as she considered the fact that she may just as well be as distant and unbiased as Mother Nature.
Eyes of blue rimmed with deep violet caught sight of the pup before any of her other senses, and Adonai's nostrils flared, recognizing the child as a member of Glorall and, perhaps, a distant family member. Her scent resembled that of some of the wolves who occasionally visited the den, who brought her mother gifts and things and spoke to her in the language that she had become even more comfortable with than the common tongue. To her detriment, perhaps, that her normal words held the lilting accent of a wolf of Latin descent, but she was not yet prepared to leave the sanctity of Glorall. Her mother, for all her distant care, was hesitant to let the girl wander past the borders, her eyes not resting on her daughter's face but the already too-adult curves of her body.
Adonai watched the pup bounce and bumble for a few moments before approaching quietly, her tall body held low and unassuming, a delicate saunter quite befitting of her dancer's form. A small smirk tugged at her maw as she watched the girl struggle with the flower, she was not sure of the flower or its purpose, though she supposed it was a good thing that she was here if it turned out to be poisonous. She wondered if this one's mother was like her own, or if she was watching from some distant hilltop, ready to save the day at a moment's notice. Perhaps both ways of child-rearing produced different children. Her and brother Pagan, both independent and intelligent, counting far more on each other than their mother. Would a child raised under a strict regime of observation come to be the same? She tilted her head.
