The dark one receives his counter attack in good humor, giggling as she handily tosses back a retaliation to his retaliation. She seems a good-natured sort, playful even. Malachi never had the opportunity to meet others when it was just Mother and himself, but he had heard stories: expertly woven tales of heroes, grand destinies, and all the characters encountered on the path to greatness – the path laid out before him, if his connection to the moon meant anything. This one emanates more of a “future damsel-in-distress” vibe than the anticipated “cunning and slightly diabolical minion.” However, Malachi does not find it displeasing, especially if she intends to continue their fun. He shakes, droplets flicking from his tri-colored coat and leaving his fur a forest of messy spikes. His attention turns back to his new companion, shooting her a mischievously charming smile before to introducing himself – a gesture she does not hesitate to reciprocate.

There is hardly time to revel in this new and budding friendship before another enters the arena – this one pale and speckled, her eyes alight with indignant fury. His silver eyes dart from the dark, earthly beauty that is Maris to the rare, surreal elegance of the newcomer. The new girl seems content to fill the role of “spoiled, demanding princess”. He narrows his gaze, his tail raising with authority as she shrieks at them. His smile shifts from friendly to sly as he trots toward her casually; Maris calls out an invitation but, while he approves of her comradery, she is too soft spoken. In stories, the Princess’ Will does not bow to just anyone, no matter how valiant the attempt. "Why is that a problem? Afraid the water will wash away your spots?" He asks with feigned innocence, tilting his head to the side, "Though, it looks like she needs a bath – right, Maris?" His tone takes on a devious edge, and he barely has time to send Maris a quick wink before he suddenly jumps forward in a roguish attempt to catch the new pup in a wild splash!