Having shaken Tide and the rest of his responsibilities for the day, Davey is heading back to the forest of spikes.  It would be so much better without his brother dragging him down, chattering annoyingly at his side.  Best that they spend time apart from each other, especially now.  Davey would like to think that the lack of charm was contagious, and he really couldn't be too careful. 

Stony surface beneath his feet, red sun high in the sky... yeah, adventuring.  Exploring.  Eyes peeled, confident steps bringing the lithe boy deeper than he'd gone the last time.  Well and truly getting a lay of the land.  How weird, that it's caught between lush lands and sand, but so wildly different?  Davey doesn't get it, but maybe examining them more closely will bring the answers he wants. 

"Davey"

Freedom was sweet and delicious. So far, nothing terrible had happened and Magdalene was enjoying her adventures. It almost made wanting to go home not an option. What if she just never went back? Then she could be her own wolf! But nighttime was scary… And though her mother was stern, Mags still appreciated the easy meals and warmth at night.

Today would not be the day she retreats though! Nope! She would head back to those pointed spiky things with the weird carvings and holes. The tunnels down south had been interesting, but she also didn’t quite want to risk her life that much. Whatever made those tunnels was not the adventure she was seeking.

So instead, the vibrant pulsating of her markings led her way through the dim red glow of the new world. The sun was nearing the horizon, a blanket of mahogany near blacking out the sky. Still no stars or moon. Where had they gone? Looking to that sky and then back down, a familiar face brings a smile to her lips. There’s no hesitation in her movements as she runs over to the small wolfdog. Her own wolfdog features shining bright under edgy and intelligent expressions.

“I dare ya to lick it,” Mags taunts in way of greeting, getting way too into Davey’s bubble to really be comfortable.

A strange sound makes its way through the wasteland, it almost sounds like the foxes when they play at dawn and dusk. High pitched, screechy... scary, if you didn't know what it was. Davey figured it was in the same bucket of things, and remained unperturbed. Beneath the red sky, he really should be more careful. Know better, do worse-- that's the brand. Get wrecked, common sense.

Upon closer inspection, Davey is drawn in by the faces on the spires. They're carved, or maybe trapped there? Maybe Abraxas was trying to show them something. Speculating on exactly what that would be, the boy wraps his way through them. Pausing to gaze up at a particularly spooky one, he's interrupted.

Magdalene pushing into his personal space, the boy gives a roll of his eyes. "The game is supposed to be truth or dare, but if you insist." Davey snorts and tosses his head, reaching out to lick one of the spires boldly. Avoiding the holes, but trying not to make that fact obvious. "Dare you to stick something in one of the holes." Game on!

"Davey"

Mags lets out a raspberry in Davey’s face at his retort. “No fun in truths in a place like this,” she snaps back, her puppy teeth clacking loudly as her ears flatten and her tail wags playfully. Actually, the truth is what they needed, but not from each other. What they should be doing is asking the spires to answer their questions, but could they do anything other than wail loudly?

Stepping back as Davey brushed by her, she watches with anticipation as he marches up to the spire. Her eyes widen and a giggle pushes through the creepy cries as his tongue slides over the rusty surface. If he didn’t get lockjaw, he was one lucky dog!

But now it was her turn and he had been dumb enough to not be more specific. Shrugging, she marches forward, chest puffed out as she looks around. Ah, there! Picking up the rock that had been brought to the surface from the churned dirt, Mags chucks it through the lowest lying hole of the spire. There was no reaction from the metal tower… Lame.

Turning to Davey, Mags sticks out her tongue, nearly biting it as she tries not to laugh. “I dare you…” she thinks for a moment before getting an idea. “To kiss that face,” Mags lifts a paw to point at one of the more creepy faces.

Davey snaps in the air around Mags's face, wagging his tail right back. Though the air was heavy and smelled like something musty, crusty, and old, it's also filled with the misplaced mirth of children. The two of them are a bit horrible together, true, but Davey is reveling in it. Letting the energy take him over, fill him with an excitement that can't be matched. Electricity coursing through the boy, and a smile he can't wipe off his smug mug coloring the rest of his face.

The spire tasted... weird. Like copper or iron, rust that coats the inside of his mouth. He makes a show of drooling a bit extra, then spitting on the dusty ground below. Before he can fully recover from the horrors, Davey's gaze is brought back around. Mags already hoisting a rock, and he watched as it sailed solidly into the abyss within one of the weird face-mouth-hole things. "Who'da thought, you'd be a good shot." He teased, grin never faltering.

With another dare laid on the table-- ah fuck his next one would need to be good. Never one to half-ass things, Davey walks boldly up to one of the spires, leaning in for a cartoonishly exaggerated smooch. The face was horrifying, sure, but he'd probably seen worse. Anything for The Bit™, he's committing for it.

Taking a bow for his performance, Davey revels in imagined flowers for just a moment. Scratching and scuffing at the ground beneath his feet for a moment, his attention turns back to Mags. "I dare you to find where these fuckers start, like their roots or something!" Yeah, goading her into helping him explore. Get Tom Sawyered, nerd.

"Davey"

“Of course I’m a good shot!” Mags croons, all edges and good times. How dare he think she was bad at aiming! Well, really she had just gotten luck the hole was big enough that the rock would’ve sailed through even if her eyes were closed. Beginner’s luck, loser.

She doesn’t get much time to contemplate her competency when Davey marches up and smashes his lips against the spire. Her resounding cackles leaves her stomach muscles sore and her larger body careening to the ground in a fit of laughter. Eyes closed, tears running down her dirty cheeks as her teeth clack together in a truly hyena style sound. He’d actually kissed the damn thing!

Mags misses his bow, but doesn’t miss his dare. Her laughter slows to a halt as she curls her body into a crescent moon shape, looking at him upside down. “That’s it? Ha! I bet I can dig to the roots faster than you!” She squeals, all grin and excitement as she jumps to her paws. Rushing forward toward the spire, she begins digging feverishly. Dirt flying out from behind her, claws scratching at the metal as she raced to the bottom.

A showman in all things, Davey trots a tidy circle around the spire as he watches her take to the ground. They're digging! Digging amongst the spires, trying to find the roots. Dirt and dust kicking up in all directions, the smell of rotten eggs growing more oppressive, ever present within the strange environment. He doesn't know what it means, and remains entirely unperturbed by it. Okay, so there's a nasty chicken coop somewhere, so what?

Taking to dig in the same hole, widening it from the other side, Davey kicks up more dirt than he probably should. There's a simple joy in digging down... that's what dogs do, and he's certainly at least dog-adjacent. A couple of dogs doing dog things, hell yeah.

It's in ripping into the ground that a rock also slices his paw, Davey drawing back with a yelp. It's more surprise than pain, though blood is quick to well up on the surface. "Sonoffabitch," grumbling, growling, as he puts the bleeding paw pad in his mouth.

"Davey"

She digs and digs, keeping her sharp feline claws pulled into her toes. No sense in risking her main form of defense in digging a stupid hole. Which feels more stupid the farther she goes. Her paws are getting sore, her muscles burning with exertion. But there is no end in sight. Even her ears feel achy as they continue to press down into her skull. Why wouldn't that wailing STOP!?

When Davey cuts his paw, Mags stops, peering around the spire at him to see if he's okay. He doesn't seem terribly hurt and she's glad for the pause in their digging. Again, a rise in the wailing forces her eyes closed and a jarring sensation to ripple through her veins. "WHY WON'T IT STOP!?" She croons, teeth grinding together as she falls back onto her rump. Tilting her head back as well, Magdalene lifts her muzzle to the sky and creates a circle with her lips and she does what she's been born to do.

Magdalene howls. Her own song lights the sky, harrowing and persistent, almost begging the wailing to give in. If she could match their tone, maybe it would make them happy.

"Magdalene"