Moonspear a golden crown

Time ticks immeasurable onward.

With the crowning of each day, Atlas grew. Physically and mentally. They all did. This is nothing new, but their lives started to get interesting a week ago. Hydra would let them roam around outside. Not far, mind you, but far enough to placate imagination. There was a whole world outside of that diminutive den, one he feels he's seen before. The sky — infinite and blue — did not surprise. Nor did the slopes upon which they were born, craggy and deadly.

Nothing about their shared world came as a shock to Atlas. However, the sensations and emotions of first gazing upon the comely face of his mother — really getting a good look at her — is something he'll never forget. How her gaze — as blue as the sky — alights upon him and his siblings. Atlas is still young so he cannot always prescribe what he sees in her gaze. All he knows is that he feels complete; not at all out of place on this mountain, let alone this world. He belongs here, alongside Vega, Osiris, and Antares. On this peak that dares to pierce the heavens. With his mother and her doppelgangers. That feeling of belonging is something Atlas highly regards; it is a balance he wants dearly to keep and enact.

And for the first time in his life, his mother presents something that could threaten that balance. Threaten or enforce, judging by the softness in which she expresses father. It is only when their howls die down does father arrive.

His sire's coat is a dizzying array of shadow and light, not unlike Vega or Osiris. That alone is encouraging, so much so he is stirred into action, leaving Lyra's side to tentatively address this new character that has entered their lives.

Atlas doesn't strut up to him, all pomp and confidence. His approach is at an angle and guarded; a gradual advance that screams of uncertainty. Mother had spoken of him so fondly and yet, it is difficult to bridge the gap between them. It's possible his other siblings have surpassed him in this but he wouldn't know, far too transfixed by this entity. Even so, Atlas continues at his own pace, eventually coming to trail a quivering nose up and down Dirge's forelimb. Recognition thumps square in his puppy face. Yes...yes! He has smelled this wolf before during his outings. This along with his mother's encouragement was more than enough to supersede any previous apprehensions. He starts weaving in and out from under his dad, rubbing against those well-traveled limbs.

The rational and guarded part of his brain has turned off. Now he's all puppy and so very excited to meet a new face.

Go for the ankles! he exclaims, remembering what Hydra had said. Go for the ankles! It is a rallying cry to his siblings, both inviting and invigorating. Who knows what an ankles is though.