Word Count → 638

BARTHOLOMEW CUBBINS → I do love that you put this on the beach. You gave Barty a reason to be around. Fun fact is that his main personality (Mars) is terrified of water. Bartholomew is opposite and loves water.

It felt good to be out. Mars had been hogging the body like hell recently, and Bartholomew was having a hard time getting some time out in the open with the body. Bartholomew took control when Mars had been out and about, in the middle of doing something. Bartholomew looked at himself and realized that he wasn't in Optime form. He started to actually panic. He was attached to a harness, and on a sled. It was not familiar to him, for he had never been in this form before within the three years that he plagued the mind of Mars Russo. He kicked out his back legs and pretty much flipped his shit, knocking over the sled and yelping about it tipping over and pulling him down with it. What the fuck, Mars! What the FUCK?! What the fuck? it was the only thing he could think and say as he would look at himself. He saw his long, wolfish legs, his paws were actually paws. He moved the four digits, but he could not grab things like in Optime form. He looked at his naked body canine body, finding himself to be primitive compared to the form that was the most human of the three. Luckily he had not been stuck in his smallest, most husky-like form that Mars almost never visited. He didn't know about this form either though. It hurt to try and remember a time from Mars' memory. It seemed like lately, even Bartholomew was remembering less and less of things. It was most stressful to Bartholomew.

Bartholomew had ditched the sled by chewing through his straps that attached him to the sled and he had simply left it wherever he had been and then he bolted off on his four legs. It actually took him a few tries to get a rhythm going with his new body that he was not used to with the fours instead of the two legs (yes, when Bartholomew was in Optime form he ran on two legs, not four, because he is a weirdo) and once he had gotten a good rhythm going, he was running at a good speed. Bartholomew wondered how Mars would make it back up to that other form. He simply didn't know how to do it. Bart ran until he got tired though, his chest heaving as he would come to some shorelines. His husky heritage would show by the fact that he naturally curled his tail over his back, especially in his secui and lupus forms (with Bartholomew, it happened to be the same, since Bartholomew knew that he was a husky and his tail was curled in Optime form a lot as well.) and right now, he was the spitting image of an over-sized husky dog, for Bartholomew was not persistent enough to get rid of the dull red, patched up harness that hugged his frame ever so elegantly. It was made for his frame, and it hugged him nicely in both his optime and his secui form. It was too big for his lupus though, so he easily slipped out of it then.

He walked down the shore, and he cast his steel gaze to the horizon before some movement down the beach would catch in his peripheral vision. His gaze would then be cast to the shore where there was a wolf. Bart cocked his head curiously and noticed that the other looked as if he had just fallen down. Bart put a grin on his face as he trotted over to the male. He stood a yard or so away, with his eyes on the man and his tail curled over his back, swaying lightly in the ocean breeze. 'Ello. Ya o'kay? Bartholomew asked the chocolate tinted male with a cock of his tri colored head.

Word Count → 288

BARTHOLOMEW CUBBINS → not a problem <3

The other male seemed to be okay, because he had gotten up and he finally addressed Bartholomew who was stuck in his secui form. The other even laughed about the fall, saying he was used to it. Bart didn't know the feeling of getting used to falling over, for the man had pretty good balance, and when he did fall, it was somewhat of a big deal to him. He normally was incredibly careful of his footing so he wouldn't fall and whatnot. Itsa good tha' yerr 'kay. the accented Bartholomew spoke to the chocolate pelted male who had gone on to tell Bart that his name was Dominick and he was from Phoenix Valley. Bartholomew himself hadn't really been keeping track of what packs were around here besides the ones that Mars had been in, so he didn't really know where the Valley was. he knew that Mars knew though. The other ended his statement with asking the tri-colored wolf-dog where he was from. Mah name's Bartholomew Cubbins. Bart spoke to the man. Imma stayin in teh' Cercatori D'Arte, tha'sa . Bartholomew had mentioned on to the chocolate man.

I can't say tha' I heard a' Phoenix Valley though, so tha'sa why ya never see meh 'round yerr parts'. Bartholomew spoke to Dominick, nodding his head lightly to the male as he let his rump find the sandy ground and he wrapped his tail around his right hind leg. How a'far are ya from yerr pack? Bartholomew asked curiously, his husky-like head tilting to the right as he looked at the male with his steel blue eyes, he cocked his pierced brow at the other wolf-man as he sat there, awaiting an answer.