heartstrings / open

Vandal hasn't really set out to explore in quite a while, so she figures it's time to get herself out there and wander instead of her recent routine of wake up, drink, eat, hunt, flirt, hunt, eat, drink, sleep. It's like going around in circles and it's starting to drive her crazy - she lives for the fun, the thrill, the shits-and-giggles of it all and having a routine isn't something quite up her alley. She wonders if she can find something particularly interesting in the wild, like a new landmark or maybe somebody to either kiss or kill - she'll take anything that isn't her stepping another paw into her self-made rut and, quite frankly, she'll even take to putting herself in conversations she isn't sure is suited for her if it means making a little deviance from her current state of 'norm'.

The maned wolf approaches the small group, coming to a stop beside Goldie and flashing a look at the young kits. They sure seem to have grown really fast, and a part of Vandal swells happily at the thought that they're managing to kick it just fine in the warbound group. One would think such a mischief-leaning alignment would be unfit for raising children but they seem to be doing just fine on their own, hugging each other and shit, being all cute and cuddly and - Ran, Vandal is a big sucker for kids, really.

As she had during their birth, the mutated maned wolf slowly lowers herself onto her stomach, tucking her front talons under her chest and flashing Goldie a soft smile indicating that she feels rather amused. Vandal doesn't talk though, simply watches curiously, quietly, letting herself bask in the simplicity of it all.