Blackfeather Woods broken shards

He had thrown himself into the caring for Damien. He had asked @Relmyna to help him do such. He noticed in everything that she knew he was not Sheogorath, though she treated him no different. It was in little things like how she looked at him when he said something. He wondered what the beast had done to her to make her so — maimed, obedient — but Cicero was afraid to ask. All he could do was be tender with her now. Occasionally they would visit @Wildfire and would bring her meat that was not poisoned, for with her maimed leg there was no necessity to poison her further. He was trying to bring her strength up so that some day he could lead her out of the Wolfskull maze.

It had not escaped his attentions that another had been brought into captivity. A girl, younger than their first prisoner, not Sheogorath's this time. He thought maybe he should free her too, but she was not his to give away. Perhaps for now, he had caused enough strife within the ranks of Blackfeather Woods. Perhaps for now, he should leave things as they were and bother only with his own prisoner. With Sheogorath's prisoner.

After bringing Damien some food and making him drink some water Cicero came from the maze with Relmyna in tow. He gestured for her to leave while he made his way to Wolfskull to see if the red-haired girl had eaten what Relmyna had brought a few hours before. Maybe the other captive @Cassiopeia would be there, too.

Wildfire slept a lot these days. She was so drained and, besides, there wasn't much else she could do while trapped in this cave. Her leg wasn't bothering her anymore—it had been nearly six weeks since "I" had sprained it—but now it was simply a lack of energy that kept her here. She felt apathetic about her fate, especially now that she'd more or less convinced herself that so much time had passed, her family had surely given up on her and moved on with their lives.

She drowsed where she sprawled on the cool floor, curled against the late September chill. One red ear flicked at the sound of footfalls coming closer. During her first few weeks as a captive, she had been on high alert whenever anyone approached. Now, Wildfire listlessly rolled her head, chin pivoting atop her forelegs, without bothering to lift it. Her eyes did raise to see Cicero's familiar face, before Wildfire faced the wall again.

He received nothing but apathy when he arrived. The past months he had thought much about letting her go but he felt she must get to her strengths again first. He wondered what others would think but then, he did not care for them much. Everything was broken, anyway. He had been occupied with tending after Damien, distracted, had nearly forgotten about her in his time. Relmyna had tended after her though on the countless days that Cicero spent with his brother.

She might waste away if he would not lead her from the maze of the Woods now, though there was little parts of Cicero that actually cared. It was more the lack of usefulness to have her waste away and die here than feeling he must salvage her life. "Given up?" he asked her, his voice void of emotion though not cold. He was used to the fact she could not gauge him now so he did not expect a senseful answer.

The truth was that Wildfire had largely given up any hope of escaping this hellhole. But for some reason, when Cicero said those two simple words, it blew some fuse deep down inside the she-wolf. With startling suddenness, she sprang to her feet and thrust her face in his, her fangs bared and a thick growl pouring from between her clenched teeth. It echoed around the dim, damp cave.

She felt as if she was one frayed thread away from truly snapping and attacking him, just like that day so many seasons ago. A whole cocktail of emotions boiled inside her, seemingly out of nowhere. She was tired and weak, yet her abrupt fury fueled her. Despite weeks of apathy, she suddenly knew one thing: today, she would leave, or she would die.

"I'm leaving," Wildfire seethed at Cicero, eyes boring into his, "right now. If you want to stop me, you'll have to kill me." And there was a very real chance that that would be the outcome. But she officially had nothing left to lose but her life, and Wildfire was done.

He could not help but chuckle at her audacity and the way she declared that she was leaving. Wolfskull was not just some place you could walk out of and everything would be good. It was a place marred not only by blood but by confusion, as most of the Woods was, and without a guide the situation was pretty hopeless. Unless you had a great deal of luck, of course. Cicero deduced that perhaps he was right that she had given up, then, thinking she could walk out of here if she were lucky, or that she would die trying, at least.

Another thing that made him laugh was how she thought he would kill her. Cicero was not sure if he could take her, regardless, although he supposed the remnants of wounds on her and the fact she ate poorly did not help her case. But it was not like he had been the most stable of late.

"Cicero would rather show you the way out. The woods are dark and full of webs one can easily get tangled in without a guide," he said with a flick of his ear as he turned around to leave Wolfskull cave. "The beast's prisoners are also Cicero's prisoners, and it is time to go." He said it as though she might be vacating a spot he would rather keep for someone else. In a way it was true, for he preferred finding more time for Damien, a thing that interested him a great deal more than Sheogorath's interests ran, and he had no qualms with the girl. It was regretful that it was her that Sheogorath had taken, although if he had not, then perhaps he would never have been her again. Their meeting was unfortunate, though Cicero was glad to see she had grown.

He turned to walk away, assuming that she would follow — or try and run off on her own with the risk of finding herself a spider's snack once more.

Her eyes narrowed mistrustfully when he claimed he wanted to safely escort her. Wildfire didn't trust him any more than the first time he had mentioned this, yet her attitude was entirely different now. "Fine," she said sharply, still wary but willing to play along. What did she have to lose?

When he began walking, a momentary disbelief—was this actually happening? Was she actually going to regain her freedom today?—caused her to hang back. But then Wildfire swiftly moved to walk at his side, slightly behind him, all the while looking about herself in absolute suspicion.

He understood why she would stay slightly behind him, for it was easier to be stabbed in the back when you walked beside someone than behind them. Cicero did not blame her for her mistrust, for it was completely to be expected. He was happy to have her walk not directly beside him, for if they were to run into others of the Woods it would be easier to mask her scent and her appearance that way and she would have more time to seek shelter and hide were it necessary; though he figured if it came to that, she'd likely just bolt away when things got dangerous. Hopefully it would not be necessary so that she would actually get out of the tangled woods alive.

His guiding was mostly in silence as he rounded each corner and slowly guided her from the web he had also dragged her into — or some part of him, anyway — some time ago, he did not know how long it had been. Time would tell if she would survive once she was outside, but he did not doubt that once she would see the sweet sunlight once more, the fiery-hued wolf would once more take her place in the world and would wish for none of the shades to follow her; would shed off his guiding. He asked, "What is your name?" after a good while of silent guiding, though did not fully expect an answer.

As they walked steadily toward freedom, Wildfire realized just how weary she had become. They were going slowly, yet all the same she felt incredibly taxed, winded even. She licked her lips and did her best to keep up, trying more than ever not to show any outward signs of weakness.

When he spoke, she was so on edge that she jumped slightly. Wildfire deliberated for a moment before eventually answering, "Fox."

A silence lapsed between them before she eventually brought forth a name. Fox. It seemed fitting enough considering her appearance, and he nodded while he continued the journey in silence. He said nothing more then, not until they reached the frays of the territory safely. The woods became less mazey and more open, and light started to filter through the cracks ahead. Cicero halted and glanced at Fox, expecting her to take off any moment now if she had any strength left. He would guide her wherever she wished if she wanted to but he doubted that she would ask any more of him; he doubted she'd want anything but to break away from him now that she could.

fast forwarded here since cicero has little to share, but if you wanted some more conversation pm me and i can edit.

He accepted the fake name and didn't press for anything else. Wildfire stared at him for a beat, then resumed her surveillance of the surrounding forest. This place was as eldritch as expected, considering the wolves who called it home. She shuddered slightly, feeling as if her very bones were rattling against each other. She had lost so much weight while being kept here.

She glanced down at herself in the light of day and saw all the sharp angles and corners. Her pelt was filthy, more of a rust color than its usual fiery ginger. It turned her stomach, so she looked away quickly. And discovered that Cicero had stopped near what looked like the edge of the woods. There was a stink lingering here and Wildfire's hackles prickled instinctively as she kept her gaze steady on Cicero.

For as long as a minute, she simply stared. Then, summoning up the very last reserves of her grit and strength, Wildfire broke into a frenzied run.

There was a moment of silence as they came closer to the frays of the forest. Her eyes were on him, although Cicero thought it would be smarter to keep them trimmed on the rest of the forest. If he or anyone had wanted to plan anything, it would have been smarter to have a third party play such a role — not he. Did she really think he would guide her away, all this way, only to keep her captured, for it to be a ruse? Ah, delightful, in a way. He would've found it delightful, were it not so sad.

The smallest of smiles crept on his face as he considered this, but almost instantly thereafter she started to run away from him as fast as she could. Cicero licked his lips and watched her go, frayed ears perking forward and mismatched eye trimmed upon the light further ahead. He saw no reason to further pursue her, for any friendly following would surely and understandably be interpreted as a threat anyway. He merely stared in silence, assuming he would never see Fox again.