Code © Skelle/Witchdogtor DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION

His white coat shimmered under the warm fall sun, obsidian dipped paws dragging the large brute across many different lands almost silently. Everything about Atticus was regal and well disciplined. He was almost always smart with his surroundings. His body brushed against a few trees, leaving his scent linger upon the tree itself. Sure, he may have wandered a lot farther than he ever has before, but he needed to learn the layout of all the lands, making sure were other territories laid ahead, storing their scents within his mind, it was for safe keeping. Atticus was sure of Dunamis bloodline but he was peaceful in his own senses, he presented himself as no danger.

Atticus known he was only dangerous if he was edged to be, although he didn't like to become mean, it would if provoked. The masculine's eyes took note to a large mountain styled edges, marking them as a landmark kind of, he's been doing this since he has journeyed this far. Fallen debris crunching under his weight. A small smile creased his lips upwards. Ivory tail dancing and swaying in a rhythm behind himself, obsidian and ivory face lifted, ears alert as he came to a stop. Azure and amethyst pools scanning the area just before himself.

The sound of water gurgling and bubbling made music as crows and ravens cawed from their tree branches, Black nose flared - trying to pick up any scents that would capture the brutes interest. His stance was always well relaxed. He scratched at the grounds, digging beneath the foliage that had fallen from the treetops and their limbs that stretched for the sky above them all. He was leaving markers here and there. As drawing closer to the stream, he would lower his cranium and take a drink. Allowing minutes or possible minutes to pass by before he would continue on his way, to make sure that everything around him was safe and secure before he could actually relax. "A pleasant day for a stroll."

Word Count: 336 of 1500

"Speech!"

Sure, her mother had chastised her. No, not simply chastised, had laid into her for leaving. Lots of nonsense about don't do this, don't do that, you're to stay here, yada, yada. Most of Magdalene told her to listen. Behave, be a good girl. Making mother upset was not something she wished to do, but that other part of her... It was already rebelling. For as much as she wanted to convince herself that her mother gave two fucks about her, there was clear evidence that the only one who mattered to Desponia was only Desponia. So why would she care if one of her nearly yearlings wander off? Would it not be one less stress and annoyance off her plate?

Roiling feelings of hormonal distress and contempt bubbled in her stomach as she stomped. Yes, stomped her way south and east toward the coast. Let her mother follow her and drag her back to Elysium lands. She'd like to see her try! Already, at almost a year old, Mags was nearly taller than her mother and laden tooth to nail with defenses. Her sharpened feline claws easily extracted themselves as she dragged her nails down a tree, stretching her near dire sized body, revealing growing muscle that begged to be built and honed. She even gave her growing antlers a good itch against the tree to not only leave her scent, but also deter the itch that surrounded the skin where the antlers grew.

When she thought she could smell the shore, she picked up her pace. To feel the fluttering of the wind against her fur, to inhale the deep scent of brine and salt, Mags wouldn't deny that she loved looking at it. The waves that leaped up to meet the shore and rock, crashing against it as if it couldn't be held back. In many ways, Mags felt the same. She wanted to be released, to be allowed to be herself. Fuck whoever would hold her back.

Her steps would draw short. No, it was the not the shore she was smelling, but rapids. Teeming with fish and reeds. Brows draw together, fur bristles, frustration clearly written across her facial expression. Well, where the hell was she!? Spinning in a circle, she attempted to search for something, some sort of landmark, that would tell her where to go or how to head back home. Nothing. Not one thing. Just trees upon trees scattering and spreading out from the widening river that grew faster and rougher the farther south it headed.

"Shit," she hisses under her breath, taking a few tentative steps when a masculine voice reaches her. Stopping short, head pulling up and eyes scanning, she sees the alabaster and obsidian male not far off. Though his posture is relaxed and open, she doesn't hold back from holding a more defensive position. Males were dangerous, don't trust them. Her mother had pounded the warning into her head, but maybe he could point her in the right direction to get home.

"Hey you! Can you help me?" Magdalene called out to him, ensuring to keep her distance.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma


wc: 520 + 336 = 856 / 1500

Code © Skelle/Witchdogtor DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION

The sounds of another were distant from the bubbling and gurgling of the water that appeared to regain its strength from the rough summer Boreas was faced with. But soon the steps were drawing closer to were the brute was, her voice reaching him. Atticus turned his attention to the little one. A few seasons too young to be out on her own. Worry washed over Atticus. As he dipped his head in respect to the graffitti styled girl. The neon colors complementing her own coat, a chill ran down over Atticus.

"Are you lost little one?" He asked, his voice relaxed and cool. As he tilted his cranium slightly, wondering were her family might be, she was much younger than himself and weary it seemed. He took another drink of water as he stood to rise up, shaking out the debris that gathered within his already pristine ivory base coat, ears twisted upon his skull.

"I will help you. I am Atticus. Atticus Dunamis." He offered the girl a smile. She was younger than a yearling he could tell that. He wondered her name, but would allow her time to see that he was of no threat - her parents on the other hand had to be worried sick. A chuckle at remembering his harsh childhood. Atticus would not just sit there and not help.

Word Count • 856 + 225 = 1,081 / 1,500

"Speech!"

His voice is kind. Kinder than her mother's ever was, but the question draws her brows together. Little? She looks down at her body, her too-large paws, and claws that flex outward whenever she tenses. Maybe he meant her age. She wasn't even a year old yet. Not even supposed to be outside of pack territory, but the sense of adventure that flooded her very being couldn't be ignored. Especially when the potential of catching yummy fish in the rapids was oh-so-tempting! Shrugging, Mags gives him back some sass, a little smirk forming on her lips.

"I'm not little but lost - yes," she admits as she looks upward to meet his heterochromatic eyes. He was indeed older but appeared relaxed and friendly. So maybe she could trust him to help her get home. It's not that she couldn't eventually get home, but getting there faster was probably a good idea. Unless she wanted to suffer the wrath of her mother once again. Not really, but it wasn't like her mom would kill her or anything.

Well, that didn't take long! He had already offered his assistance! Mags can't help the way her tail wags and her smirk grows into an energetic smile. "Sweet! I'm Magdalene! But call me Megs," her smile grows before softening into concern and excitement for the adventure ahead of them. "So uh, which way is back toward Firefly Lake? Do you know where that is?" Her head tilts as she looks him over once more before turning her attention back to their surroundings. It was clear why someone would get lost easily. If you didn't keep track of what tree you passed by last, they all ended up looking the same.

"speech"

coded by NachoMumma


wc: 285 + 1081 = 1366 / 1500

Atticus wasn't about to let a yearling get lost even more. A chuckle as she replies out that she wasn't so little. Especially with nephews and nieces on the way he couldn't help but imagine them being lost from home. Or maybe she was just adventurous like all pups were? Which in mind, it was common. The large brute chuckled gently how she had stated that she was not little but indeed lost. A shiver ran down along his spine however he would not show that in fact he was also lost. But not completely. He known the area slightly, not completely but a little.

Magdalene was her name, but offered her own little nickname of Megs. The name seemed to match the colorful girl. "Your scent tells me you are of a pack." He stated kindly, noticing the smile that crossed her lips then disappeared, hoping that the girl wouldn't be in trouble once she got home. But worry was there.

Even the slightest little hints would allow him time to figure out just where Firefly lake was located. "The ocean is close by, and a mountain that appears to be dormant I've never seen a lake over that way. Maybe if we venture where I heard of stones but we have to go threw a thicket to get there. The water isn't really deep but deep enough.." He worried if the girl would grow tired with the journey ahead. But would give her time to rest if so.

Word Counter • 1081 + 250 = 1,331

"Speech"

Atticus Dunamis

CODE BY SIN

"Yeah, I'm from Elysium," Mags responded in kind, giving him a nod before once more looking around to see if she could find any significant land marks. Why was exploring and navigating always such a challenge? She almost kind of wants to give up until Atticus starts talking again. He mentions the ocean and the dormant mountain - did he mean Mount Volkan?

"Oh, I've seen the thicket! I went by it on my way here!" She exclaims excitedly, her tail wagging quickly behind her. "I bet if we can find that again, we can definitely find the way back to my pack's lands." Her smile widens, gaze looking to Atticus for a brief moment before turning her attention back to their surroundings. While the rapids were a pretty confusing area (the trees did quite look all alike), she began to notice differences as she looked closer.

"If I mark the trees with my claws, it'll help, yeah?" Mags asked as she approached a tree and let her claws gouge their soft bark. Stepping back to admire her work, she nods to confirm her own thoughts. "Okay, so the thicket is north of here, right? We should try that way first!" The yearling waits for Atticus to confirm before bounding ahead, sniffing at a few trees and leaving her claw marks in them along the way.

"Magdalene"

words: 255 + 1331 = 1586