06-04-2021, 07:17 PM
//after the meeting
The jungle canopy's shade kept the fire inside dull, but the sun hidden by it represented Atticus' internal struggle as he rushed through The Pitt's territory. Paws scraped aimlessly past various poisoning plants, only to skid to a halt moments later at his final destination. Mud splashed upwards onto his white chest. Panicked and out of breath, the wolf's wide gaze looked out to the horizon where a jungle home laid. Home. A place they deemed theirs. The only place left to check.
Without another thought, his paws rammed into the door's wooden front. The acacia door slammed against the walls, causing the birds nearby to screech in dismay. Stunned, a croaking call came from the canine. "Sweeney?" His deep, concerning voice rang out. No answer. Not even a sentimental purr to greet him. Just... nothing.
Ragged breaths echoed in the hallow house. Golden eyes scanned the area as Atticus trailed forward into the house. What he laid out in the morning was untouched, bedding unmade, and the food was beginning to rot in the hot summer sun. A bright-colored feather from her pelt laid on the floor, but no scratches or signs of struggle to accompany it. Narrowed hues continued to stare. Picking up the feather in his claws, he gulped. Worry began to tug at his brain.
Gone.
The thought crossed his mind. He chose to deny it at first, but as he continued to call her name and plead for their leave, the male's heart began to sink. Tears started to accumulate in his eyes. They stung at his eyeline, but never rolled down his cheek. Maybe she was out. They were inseparable, weren't they? Sweeney would never leave him without a word, would she? Swallowing his negative thoughts, he continued his search. Atticus paced their home with claws dragging on their wooden floor. One. Two. Three. Four. Five... He walked around the house endlessly as time passed, awaiting for her arrival.
Nothing came though.
She was... gone.
Atticus lowered his head to his chest. Eyes pressed closed and a lowly growl exited him, almost shifting into a sob. Claws dug into their sheets and he leaned down, pressing his nose into their blanket. Her scent began to fill his senses. With one deep inhale, he pulled away. If she ever returned, he would know. A final hope. A wavering exhale left the wolf, letting go of her sickly sweet aroma.
'And I never even got to say 'I love you.''
He couldn't wait any longer. Tanglewood had to hear of Dante's proclamation and prepare. His gazed returned to the world, opening to see what remained. A shaky stature reached forward for a journal and ink on the shelf above. One paw held onto the leather backing as the other carefully peeled the lined page from the book's inside. When finished, a claw dipped into the dark ink. Ink oozed across the page and finalized a short letter to Sweeney if she had ever returned home. Simply, he wrote 'TW - A.R.' Afterwards, he proceeded to tuck the page back into their journal with the corner folded inwards.
Sliding the leather-bound book and ink caddy into place, the wolf wearily rose to his paws. With a satchel slung over his side and possessions within it, he soon turned to look back on their home for one final time. A sigh exited Atticus. No other thoughts occurred as he turned out towards the underbrush with his back turned to The Pitt. Moments later, dirtied paws walked away. Atticus Roux had left.
The jungle canopy's shade kept the fire inside dull, but the sun hidden by it represented Atticus' internal struggle as he rushed through The Pitt's territory. Paws scraped aimlessly past various poisoning plants, only to skid to a halt moments later at his final destination. Mud splashed upwards onto his white chest. Panicked and out of breath, the wolf's wide gaze looked out to the horizon where a jungle home laid. Home. A place they deemed theirs. The only place left to check.
Without another thought, his paws rammed into the door's wooden front. The acacia door slammed against the walls, causing the birds nearby to screech in dismay. Stunned, a croaking call came from the canine. "Sweeney?" His deep, concerning voice rang out. No answer. Not even a sentimental purr to greet him. Just... nothing.
Ragged breaths echoed in the hallow house. Golden eyes scanned the area as Atticus trailed forward into the house. What he laid out in the morning was untouched, bedding unmade, and the food was beginning to rot in the hot summer sun. A bright-colored feather from her pelt laid on the floor, but no scratches or signs of struggle to accompany it. Narrowed hues continued to stare. Picking up the feather in his claws, he gulped. Worry began to tug at his brain.
Gone.
The thought crossed his mind. He chose to deny it at first, but as he continued to call her name and plead for their leave, the male's heart began to sink. Tears started to accumulate in his eyes. They stung at his eyeline, but never rolled down his cheek. Maybe she was out. They were inseparable, weren't they? Sweeney would never leave him without a word, would she? Swallowing his negative thoughts, he continued his search. Atticus paced their home with claws dragging on their wooden floor. One. Two. Three. Four. Five... He walked around the house endlessly as time passed, awaiting for her arrival.
Nothing came though.
She was... gone.
Atticus lowered his head to his chest. Eyes pressed closed and a lowly growl exited him, almost shifting into a sob. Claws dug into their sheets and he leaned down, pressing his nose into their blanket. Her scent began to fill his senses. With one deep inhale, he pulled away. If she ever returned, he would know. A final hope. A wavering exhale left the wolf, letting go of her sickly sweet aroma.
'And I never even got to say 'I love you.''
He couldn't wait any longer. Tanglewood had to hear of Dante's proclamation and prepare. His gazed returned to the world, opening to see what remained. A shaky stature reached forward for a journal and ink on the shelf above. One paw held onto the leather backing as the other carefully peeled the lined page from the book's inside. When finished, a claw dipped into the dark ink. Ink oozed across the page and finalized a short letter to Sweeney if she had ever returned home. Simply, he wrote 'TW - A.R.' Afterwards, he proceeded to tuck the page back into their journal with the corner folded inwards.
Sliding the leather-bound book and ink caddy into place, the wolf wearily rose to his paws. With a satchel slung over his side and possessions within it, he soon turned to look back on their home for one final time. A sigh exited Atticus. No other thoughts occurred as he turned out towards the underbrush with his back turned to The Pitt. Moments later, dirtied paws walked away. Atticus Roux had left.