YOU WANT TO BE / private

[VANDAL R.]

Vandal spends most afternoons in the skies. The higher her altitude is, the easier it is for her to look over the Typhoon's territory and pick out individual spots of interest. Every random face is investigated, every suspicious presence is chased away, every vulnerable prey is taken down and brought back to camp for feeding. Every speck that shouldn't be there is checked, double-checked, triple-checked until she's satisfied that nothing is out of place. Under her guise of easy-going breathlessness, Vandal's constantly worried, nerves fraying with the fear that something out of place might come and take over her family.

When she sees a small splash of golden on the shore, lit up by soft sparks, Vandal's quick to fold her wings and dive towards the smudge - only to realize it's Goldenluxury exerting extra electricity into the sand. Pursed-lipped, the maned wolf waits until she's finished releasing the last of her sparks before landing gingerly on the slopes of the coast's sand, carefully testing it to make sure she won't be shocked out of her feathers.

After discovering that it's safe, she wanders forward and offers her niece a wise smile in greeting. She knows Goldie's been sick recently, and can't help but secretly worry for the girl's rest despite trusting her that she'll get through it - it's almost natural to Vandal, to worry and to care, and it's not exactly something that she can help. "Hey Goldie, what're you doin' out here? I mean, apart from exertin' a li'l steam, that is."