As it were, they were both dark of coat. The girl's lighter grey underside matching his own and where she was dark grey and rusty on her top coat, he was dark grey and red. They both stood out like sour thumbs. Gaara had fared much better blending into the land of red rock. He missed what was home, once. There was nothing of familiarity in a land always changing. The tides of sand always turning. Only a true expert could navigate their way around here and that was her mother, not he, so he had every intention to keep the girl close.

Gavi tosses her front half down to touch the scorching sand, and indication of play. Despite the heat, her energy did not relent. Gaara knew if he were to attempt to bring her to heel, there just might be the possibility that the child, full of youthful ignorance, would rush far into the rolling tide, never to be seen again.

So instead, Gaara would play her game and later when she was spent and thirsty, a lesson would be revealed that play should be savored for late hours instead when the sun was not so high. Luckily, it was dawn. A bright new morning instead of the peak of noon.

Gaara lifts then, his tail a high banner behind him and he too then suddenly drops his lower half. Another sharp bark given before he rushes at her.