―――― Atticus could recall the day that Clarence had arrive in the Ascendants, confused, scared, and denying the reality around him. While they had never quite been able to figure out where he had come from, aside from blabberings about a Queen Charlotte, a few seemingly significant people, and some battle in a strange place- England, was it?- the man had still decided to join among their ranks. After that, Atticus wasn't sure where he had gone. He'd see him time to time during the day poking around for food, but he had never quite seemed to become integrated into Clan life like the rest of them had. The lack of assimilation was strange for Atticus to puzzle, and puzzle over it he did. Clarence was now some sort of puzzle, some sort of strange story to figure out in his free time. Where did he come from? What life had he lived if seeing animals like the rest of them was a strange sight, especially when he himself was a panther? What was this Queen Charlotte, if not more than a ship? They were all questions that Atticus told himself he would ask at one point or another, but between work, and the man's absence, he had never yet found the opportunity.

Except it seemed their friend, much like many other Ascendants members, had found his own routine. Was Atticus secretly glad he was getting out of his hut and doing things? Why, yes, but he would never so boldly admit that. And, truthfully speaking, he had no real intent to follow him. Yet, that morning, he found his paws drifting towards the waterfall on his own daily routine of the border watch, keeping an eye out for any potential joiners, dangers, or situations that needed attention out in the territory. He heard the shaking of a pelt and the dripping of water as someone moved from the lake's depths, his paws briefly pausing as his ears flickered towards the sound. It took him a moment to consider, glancing to the sunrise before it clicked in his head. Clarence. He exhaled idly as he turned and detoured from his own path, making his way closer to the falls and the man that now stood tensely at his approach. For a moment he smirked, but the expression was quickly smothered as he stepped his way out, kind enough to step out in front of the man's gaze, rather than sneak up behind him. "You should be mindful of what's around you," he warned in a low, albeit soft rumble of his voice. "Were anyone wishing harm upon you, it would be far too easy." In true Atticus fashion, despite the plainness of his voice, the warning was well-meant, quickly transitioned as he continued on. "Good morning, Clarence. How is everything going for you?"