▹▹▹▹ //tldr; atticus takes down a fully grown moose and had chased it a little ways into Ascendant's territory

Even for Atticus, this was a bit of a stretch. The melanistic jaguar lay low against the undershrub of a small patch of forest, watching the big beast that he had been tracking for more than half a day. His pure golden eyes stared ahead, fixated on the large moose in front of him, the creature making disgruntled noises at the gashes upon his leg, gashes that Atticus had put there himself long ago, chasing the beast out and forcing it to run on its injured legs, wearing it down slowly. It took a while, of course, the moose resilliant to most anything, more than easily able to kill Atticus if he were not careful, but the gashes had torn and the beast had felt its pain for far too long. But even Atticus knew the fight was not over. The man exhaled slowly, in complete control of his body as he slowly shifted his torso forward, shifting a paw carefully across the ground as his gaze slowly shifted to eye the area surrounding them. One side was nothing more than the wide, open plains, the other being further into the brief stretch of forests where the trees would provide an obstacle for the both of them. Ahead of them, a lake in the distance. His gaze snapped back at the sofest of noises from the moose, considering his options within a few brief seconds. He had lost his sword somewhere between here and... Well, the last week of his life, but he tred not to consider those facts; they were no longer relevant in this equation. Besides, he had more than his fair share of physical combat.

This would work.

Atticus made no noise that would give away his spot, but in the next moment, a flash of a shadow, he leapt out, his claws outstretched to rake down the moose's hind leg, blocking off the right path that otherwise would have led into the open fields. The moose, briefly startled by the pain and its previous injuries, stumbled as it began to run as quickly as its legs, and will power, would carry him further into the forest, with Atticus chasing some far paces at his heels, not close enough to be an immediate thread, but far enough to be an impending doom. Rather, Atticus was toying with the beast, seeing how far it would take him; after all, he had to play this safe, and he already had a fairly nice bruise from catching the end of a hoof the first time around. Any time the moose caught caught up in the tangle of underbrush and the trees, Atticus was there, putting another slash into the beast's sides or its leg, following its stumbling path out of the small forest and into an open territory. Of course, he wasn't blind at all to the overwhelming smell of someone else's territory, but hunger had oftentaken that brief worry. He only needed a small part of this meal for himself; the rest was anyone's fair game. And there was no easier way to make friends than by offering food.

Lunging forward as soon as their paws crossed out of the forest, the large Jaguar lept up onto the injured Moose's back, digging his claws deeply into its shoulders and tucking his head at the nap of the beast's neck, biting in strongly in an attempt to go after the spine, as well as make it impossible for the moose to crane its neck far enough to get a bite on him either. Blood soon ran down his jaw and his throat but he paid it no mind as he shifted his paws in deeper,  as the beast's legs finally gave out, crashing to the ground as the large moose finally gave in to its fate, its pained cries echoing, cries that Atticus showed mercy to by giving one final bite to the moose's throat. Only then did his head lift quickly, assessing the territory he now found himself in now that this large Moose was no longer a treat to him, one paw remaining upon the beast as his golden eyes scanned the area, the trail of blood down his face doing little to lessen the imposing appearance of the lithe jaguar. One thing was for sure, there was no way he was going to be capable of dragging this beast out of the territory before anyone noticed, and perhaps not even in one piece.

His only option was to take what he could and run, before the owners of this territory showed up, or to stand his ground and either attempt to make the claim for himself, or to offer part of it up in tribute. His gaze did not drop to the beast again, instead surveying the large observatory in the distance and the lingering scents of those who belonged here. As it was, he would not easily eat this moose to himself before it began to rot. Giving in with a faint exhale as his muscles relaxed, he would have to resign himself to speaking,  no matter how he did not wish to. "I bring an offering to share, if you would have part of it", he rumbled lowly, lifting his voice up only slightly to carry further.

▹▹▹▹It wasn't hard to miss the flash of a red cloak that adorned the back of a pale woman, his golden gaze turning to study the figure before him, his gaze steady and calm as he himself remained quiet for a few moments, only moving so much to shift his gaze away as he moved a paw beneath his chin to wipe away some of the blood from his fur, at least giving a half attempt to make himself more presentable before his gaze turned back. It was in that he found the slight animosity in the woman's gaze as her eyes flickered between him and the Moose that he stood upon. No, it wasn't quite animosity or even anger, but perhaps a slight annoyance? Regardless, his face brought no expression, still cold and stony as the woman finally brought herself to speak, ignoring his previous sentiments to further question him instead.

It was fair, in all rights. He had chased this moose onto their territory, and by the looks of it stolen a kill, if the look upon her face was anything to go by, but it was still a faint annoyance to him nonetheless. Then again, if these people were strong and moralistic enough to not attack him on sight, they might not be bad acquaintances to know either. It was a momentary thought as a low note in his throat rumbled as he brought himself to speak, "Many call me Atticus, lady Agathe," the answer would come lightly, his voice surprisingly soft despite his exterior. "I come from a place far from here, one you would not know in much the same way I do not know where my paws presently stand. All the same, I do apologize for my trespassing."

He shifted again, drawing his paw away from the beast as he sat more idly, his shoulders relaxing somewhat, albeit he still eyed the horizon now and then to ensure no others from Agathe's home were intending to show up in a surprise. "It is no small thing to waste a life. You and your people are welcome to this beast, after I have taken my share. What you do with it then is up to you."

▹▹▹▹Atticus' gaze cooly switched from Agathe to Moon at the man's approach, his golden gaze momentarily eyeing the bright glint of his fangs, an oddity upon them that Atticus had not seen very much of in recent times. He had seen his face shared of adorned and scarred pelts, but he had never quite seen someone go as far as, or to be the owner of, patterned teeth. He said no more than taking an idle breath in at the notion that his greetings were a bit 'extra', a term he likely wouldn't have used himself, and perhaps for these people, it was. Nonetheless, his paws shifted, moving his body slightly to adjust the way his weight rested upon his paws at this so-called 'condition'. Yet, he kept his gaze forward, almost unwaveringly so. Perhaps he should have rolled his eyes or dismissed the notion given any possible connotations of the word 'mistress', but he looked stony and serious. "If that is your insistence, Mistress Moon," the answer came quietly.

His gaze just as quickly turned back to Agathe at her sudden snapping at his address, only then allowing a momentarily flicker of amusement to cross his eyes as the corner of his smile only briefly pulled up into the faintest of smirks, that quickly disappated for not wanting to insult the lady further. "Do forgive me, Agathe. It was an assumption you would have preferred it given the way you carry yourself." It was no insult. Atticus knew that woman held the potential to be hellfire or worse, and even her reaction to his words proved that. Nonetheless, him calling her a 'lady' had been nothing of an insult at all; rather, a title of respect to a woman who seems self-assured in who she was as an individual. Regardless, he now knew better. Though for a moment he took a breath in as if he might continue some train of thought that ran through his head, but Agathe continued on and brought him to a pause.

Yet he listened with care, his body turned towards her to give her his full attention, sometimes his gaze turning to Moon to keep her subtly involved in this conversation as he gently nods. The Ascendants. Not a bad name, if he had to say so himself. And this 'mistress', as he was now entitled to call moon, was the Seraph. He nodded politely to Moon now, putting this little fact to memory as Agathe carried on, his head lifting a little higher in some amusement at her offering. Just like that, you could join a group with nothing more than an offering of food? Even more, he had gotten a thank you out of this fiery woman? He dipped his head humbly to the thanks as he went silent, the faint look across his eyes noting he was deep in thought as he began to nudge the moose in a way it would be easier for the lot of them to carry if they did decide to do so. "I would be happy to," he answered at length. It was a risk, of course, joining a group of unknowns, but he had spent long enough as it were on his own. It would be a nice change of pace- and at the very worst, he could simply leave if they decided to turn murderous on him.