His grasp on the beast seemed to be slipping of late. What had happened to Alexander, although deservedly so, Cicero knew he had not intended for it to grow so out of hand. He had not intended to go so far — and yet he had, the beast had. It was the first time that the line between those two was so indistinct, suddenly, as if he awoke with the sudden realisation that everything the beast had done so far, what he remembered and not, had been Cicero all along. But the thoughts were futile, he knew, and so he never lingered long upon them, though the fear of losing himself to the beast grew. What would it do to Damien when it next took charge? It seemed sheer luck that so far nothing terrible had happened to his brother. After all, Cicero knew what he was like. Pain was good, was love, was delightful. He, he understood that it was not like that for all, just for him, but Sheogorath seemed another force altogether.
These thoughts drove him from his home almost as if trying to find someone else to hurt, someone who did not matter, who maybe even deserved it. He wondered about Kendra, and hoped that she was well, as he made his way from the marshy woods and into the fields. He trotted at a leisruely pace, glad to be out and about despite what bothered him so. He was still thin, scrawny at best, since the famine had grabbed hold of him, giving him a spooky appearance with his sunken eyes, jutted cheekbones and ribs sticking out.
The berry fields were barren because of winter's approach, but somehow it was still good to be among them and imagine warmer times. Cicero wondered idly if he would survive the winter. Not that he pitied himself or would regret death. He had been on its doorstep and he knew that there was a day all of them would die. Should it come, he would make peace with what he had done. It was only curiosity that drew forth the question. With the sun slowly starting to cant towards the horizon, Cicero shuffled around in the underbrush of the fields, trying to see if he could find some poisonous herbs before winter would reclaim them all.
It had been little time sine his encounter with the moonspear folk and the warrior had departed the scene shortlay after the two had bade their farewells. Upon skirting the edges of a thick woodland, the darkly draped male had found himself in a meadow, it's grasses wilting and subdued but, nevertheless, it was certain this spot would have been vibrant with colour during the warmer months. Probably holding the capacity to provide surrounding hunters with a supply of rodents, of which the man was fond of.
But now it seemed the place was a barren land, and the brute would prove this by dropping his skullage to the ground and drinking in what trails where available. To his surprise, he caught the familiar stench of another wolf, fresh and close until sight deemed the finding true; a dark figure amongst the brush. It was too far away to determine much, too hidden to prove colouration or to communicate without shouting and so Aurelius swept closer, ears pricked for any sign that this stranger had noticed him.
He was busy with the task at hand as he sifted through the underbrush looking for poisonous herbs, but he was nevertheless easily alerted by the stranger's presence. A single ear swiveled back at first as he heard the footfalls in the distance and when he noted the man's ears perk forth as though searching for contact from the corner of his eye, Cicero turned around to look at him. He licked his lips in thought while he observed the other.
He was a hefty amount bigger and stronger looking than Cicero, who, since the famine, still looked like he could keel over any moment now, even though he had restrengthened himself. He had never looked strong or healthy before even though he had been healthy enough last winter, so Cicero did not worry overly much. Perhaps because he did not fear death much.
Pulled from the fleeting thought, Cicero chuffed to announce his presence to the strong looking man. "Looking for something?" he asked, surprisingly conversationally that day, while his face remained stoic and unfeeling, giving him a ghostly appearance because of his thin form and strange markings.
Time seemed to tick longer as Aurelius' pawsteps rattled dangerously loud in the brittle grasses. Whether or not this beast was a threat, an amicable soul, was unknown to him and so he kept distance on his side. As he neared, the skeletal appearance of the wolf could be seen, twisted and odd in the eyes of The Hunter. His pelt was something of an oddity too; dark with streaks of alabaster, something the brute had never laid eyes on before.
Entranced by the thinness and alien appearance, he seemed to flinch as moment by moment, the stranger's bony skullage turned to face him, bi-coloured eyes gently grazing his own with a soft chuff. He returned the gesture with a curt nod of his own, composing himself to stand tall once more. "Merely passing through," he'd rumble. How did this being get so thin? A freak of nature, perhaps, an abnormality to the brood. "I sense your business here has been disturbed by my intrusion, I apologise, what where you doing?" His molten orbs would watch his company closely, seeking proof that this was, in fact, a dead egg.
There was something uncomfortable in the beast's mannerisms, and it intrigued Cicero. He guessed to be the source of this feeling, but did not care much for it. The wolf disclosed that he was only passing through, and Cicero guessed him a loner; perhaps looking for a place to stay throughout winter before the icy cold would swallow him awhole? Cicero stared at him with mismatched eyes, a certain audacity in the way he beheld the male, though his body was carried neutrally as he was not looking for a quarrel.
As the question came, Cicero smiled briefly before returning to his previous stoicism and answered, "Looking to save some herbs before winter's chill will take the lands entirely." He studied the male's face, wondering if he held an interest in such things, or if plants were merely plants to him.
His judgemental gaze was met with one of calm neutrality, something the Treborn did not expect from a wolf of such ghastly appearance. Nevertheless, he returned the gesture with a tight smile of his own as he listened to his company speak. He declared to spire an interest in herbology, of which the brute himself knew nothing about. Cynthia was a practiced doctor but alas, she had stayed in the Keep. He wondered silently if perhaps this... creature... could teach him a few basics.
He fancied an anonymous approach, and so greeted the nameless wreck's statement with a wave of his tail. "My sister aspired to help and to heal," he'd mention in reply, "she is probably doing the same thing." His tone was fond and often he wondered how his family were doing back in the crags, yet in many ways he knew they'd never understand quite why he'd left, and so it was best to move on.
The way that the male spoke suggested that his sister was not with him now. Perhaps she stayed somewhere nearby and Cicero was wrong, but he guessed that the mystery sister was somewhere else. In their birth lands, perhaps, while this one wandered? "Hm," Cicero mused thoughtfully while he sifted through the plants, trying to find something of use.
In the end, he did not find what he was looking for — useful plants — but something else that piqued his interest. "Ah," he said and he leaned down to pluck a new plant from the ground, one he had never tried nor used before. As a matter of fact, Cicero did not remember ever seeing it before. He put down the plant after taking it from the earth and sniffed it to see if he could find out about this plant's uses. It was a rare sight, to find Cicero interested in something over his present company.
The stranger turned to roam as the man's jaw clicked shut and he looked on with mild interest. Like a shadow of sorts, he kept pace with the scruff, molten orbs scouring the grasses in a lame attempt to look for the stems his estranged company searched for. Through the eyes of the dark Treborn, the groundcover looked more or less the same, of varying shades of green, yes, but merely a blended book of plants.
Though he sensed the magpied sir's disinterest, his intentions were not discouraged and so found himself peering curiously at the specimen as it was placed back atop the earthy surface. He hadn't spotted it until it was literally plucked right from under his nose and, after retreating to stand a few feet away, found him lazily forming a question. "What is that? Does it have a use?"
Ah, this wolf was a curious one, Cicero easily deducted while he rid the plant he had found of sand between its roots. He smirked in reply and put the herb down on the ground. "It has yet to show its qualities, if any," Cicero shared with the stranger. "Care to try?" The smirk did not leave his face; perhaps because he knew that the answer would be 'no' regardless. Cicero didn't intend to try it himself, here; he would bring it home and see about trying it there, finding out if it carried any properties of use to him or his sister.
The magpie's reply was a disappointment; Aurelius half expected him to recite the plant's specifics just as his sister had done. Isn't that what healers were meant to do? His ideals had not encompassed the fact that perhaps the canid did not know of its uses, its value and properties. With a twitch of his ear he onlooked with a disdainful expression as a twisted smile played about his companie's muzzle.
"I think I'd rather leave the investigation for you alone," he'd rumble. However forceful his curiosities were, he knew not to delve into the realm of herbs without an insight. He mused his tail back and forth, quieries still nagging at his tongue. "Perhaps a creature akin to a rabbit could serve as a replacement?"
As expected, the other wolf did not give in. Cicero was amused that he would offer a rabbit up but did not wish to take its place himself. Knowing it might only further trigger, he said, "Ah, and waste a perfectly good rabbit with winter on its way?" If he could catch a rabbit, he may as well take the rabbit, and not feed it poison. Besides, that way it might spread if other rabbits ate from it, and Cicero liked to think they had not deserved such a pointless death.
"It is easier to dose when a wolf tries." He had tried it on coyotes or foxes too, but there was a part of him that was a thrillseeker, and that part wanted to try it himself first. The thought of not knowing what effects a herb may bring, if any, was exhillarating, he had to admit. Cicero licked his lips as he looked upon the unknown plant and then looked up at the other. "Yet it seems unwise to try such a thing here, in the company of the wilds. Cicero will take it home first." He tilted his head as though inquiring if the wolf wanted anything from him; if not, he may make his way back to the Woods so that he could find out if this plant was poisonous, healing, or nothing at all.
Sorry for the delay
The magpied stranger's counter comment did good to stifle another suggestion that Aurelius might've voiced. Despite his unruly appearance and alien antics, the rogue spoke sense and for that the man kept his cool. A different approach might be necessary if he was to complete what he had interrupted for.
"What is.. Cicero's home like?" He pondered as the creature spoke his name.
"Could you show me more herbs? What they do... how one can use them?" He wasn't quick to trust the skeletal brute, yet perhaps he could use him for his own gain.
As the question was posed, Cicero shrugged. "Dark woods." There was not much more to it than that. "The wolves of the Blackfeather Woods are not the kindest, but they get by." He did not think it would be wise for this one to wander in there as much as he thought it was unwise for anyone else to do so. A warning, wrapped in words to not sound so harsh.
He then smiled as the other wolf asked him about more herbs. He clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth and looked around. "Pickings are scarce today. It seems winter's approach is faster than Cicero thought." He took the unknown plant in his mouth and then flung it over his back, so that he could walk more easily and would not need to carry the potentially harmful plant in his mouth all the way. Then he said, "Care to walk and search for more?" And he started off, not seeming to care much for whether the stranger would join him in his search for plants or leave him be.