[/html]Ataxia didn't really even know she had a sister. Salvia was as much a tale to her as Sirius had been until she had met the dark Boss. Pan was familiar, because she had seen him. She liked the darkness of his fur because it reminded her of her own. She most resembled their father, though she would never grow to be just like him. Always, she would be a miniature of Larkspur. Small, dainty, but that certainly did not mean that she would be incapable of ferocity. If her youthful vigor now was any sign of what was to come, she would be a hurricane of action as she grew. Though she really had much to be shaped and formed. In time, her parents and packmates would come to teach her which things she should do more of and which she should cease. Whether or not she obeyed their teaching was another matter entirely, though she was not willfully disobedient. She merely had a mind of her own that guided her actions; sometimes, rules were made to be broken.
The next question caused her to shrug lightly. Molca had been around earlier, she thought, and probably had been watching her. If someone was still observing her, though, she was certainly not aware that they were there. Because she didn't know the rhythm of lying yet, she responded honestly. "No watch." she replied. The girl noticed the way that the other female's legs seemed to loosen, some of the tension released from within. Ataxia did not stop being respectful, though. Just because a superior wolf relaxed did not mean it was appropriate for the subordinate wolf to do the same. Gut instinct drove her to that knowledge. There was a lot about pack behavior that was innate, although not all wolves followed it through. In this way she was lucky of her parentage; she had good solid common sense engrained in her from the start.
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