[i]"Dear Mum and Dad, its me, Magnus"[/i] . . . No.

[i]"I have waited so long to write this"[/i] . . . Wrong again. 

[i]"Remember me?"[/i] . . . That's the worst of the bunch.

Magnus had faced Shrapnel without blanching, stared down a known hero-killer like Deathstroke/Bronze Tiger and hardly worried, even managed to escape Granny and her Huntsman without a second thought to his own safety, yet now a simple letter had him flustered. But this was no simple letter, to him this was quite possibly the most important letter ever written of all time. Or at least it would be whenever he managed to write it. 

But how do you tell your parents, parents who haven't seen you in almost a decade, that you aren't dead?

Too make matters worse Magnus's handwriting was terrible. Years of having talons instead of fingers will have that effect. He didn't want to use a computer to write the message for a couple of reasons, firstly that it felt to impersonal and secondly he was terrible with technology. So he sat and he wrote and he crossed out what he had written and he worried that it would never be good enough. At this rate he would never speak to his parent's again, never manage to let them know that their son wasn't dead. 

[i]Why not just go to them?[/i] the thought leapt unbidden into his head, a host of conflicting emotions battling within him at it's wake. He couldn't go home, not while Granny was still looking for him. She was sure to have spy's watching his old town, waiting for him to rear his head. He was almost surprised that the Pack hadn't been attacked by Granny's agents yet after their battle with Shrapnel had been televised, showing Fenrir in full glory, but then even Granny would be wary of facing off with the Justice League. But if he was to go home on his own then she would strike, making the best use of his time alone. No, the letter would have to do for now. 

A flashing yellow light disturbed his thoughts, a Godsend for the Meta teen really. If he remembered rightly then yellow meant some sort of villain disturbance. His lips pulled back into a tight smile, revealing white teeth. He'd been cooped up too long, it was time to let the Wolf out. Quickly donning the costume that Hawkman had sent him and buckling his new Hunting knife onto his belt he made his way to the corridor, nearly bumping into Ditto on the way. 

"Trouble," growled Magnus, his monosyllabism seemingly a fixture now. Though his words went very descriptive the way he said them was, as his tone indicated it was both a statement and a question, as he was keen to know if the Cargitte knew anything more of the situation.