Argent has been tense since the black-capped woman's arrival at the borders. Tactics and strategy have never been a strong suit of his, and he'd not lingered long enough to hear what Blackfeather would decide to do. And there'd been Cicero and whatever he's got in mind. The titan has to admit he's intrigued by his villain.

He does not think he will have much time to dwell on it though. They are coming, finally, they are here: Argent moves with a measured quickness, avoiding his packmates. There's someone specific he's looking for.

It seems he is the first from Blackfeather to arrive, unaware of Cicero's path nearby. He looks around anyway just to double check and then lowers his head and murmurs, "heda." He does not recognize the man with her and so pays him little attention, focused instead on the rush of emotion of this moment's culimination.

He ignores the reaction of the man with heda. They haven't met, and it's a fair one, given Argent is for all intents and purposes a member of Blackfeather. He pauses before answering heda's question - enough time to see Cicero slip into view. It's a calculated move, for sure. The darkness of the forest provides ample cover for those native to it, and especially for the sneak.

"Yes," he murmurs, watching him walk away at his almost casual pace. The titan glances at heda and her companion, ready to follow her orders, but: "the forest is treacherous and dark," he warns, "they will want to take us by surprise." And Argent is of no use to them there - he is a light coated giant, a bright beacon of their position. 

He wonders if he should part from them, even though Cicero surely knows the ruse by now and will report it to Vaati... with heda's coloration, she could make more use of the shadows than he. He has largely avoided the meadow where that dangerous Willow lies -- unaware of the existence of the spores, but knowing that proximity brings with it enough feelings of unease he did not want to venture close enough to figure out the cause. "However you decide to proceed, be cautious." 

At the end of the day, Argent is not clever enough to be a strategist. His role as rogue has drawn to a close; it is heda's law he will follow now, however the commander decides to proceed.

He follows the gesture to where Cicero has vanished, falling into step alongside his heda. "A clearing," the titan answers lowly, "marked by a weeping willow." He does not mention the unease he's felt about it, assuming it is psychological, unaware of the spores that particular location carries. Étoille waits a beat and then adds, "and Cicero," in reference to the shadow they follow, who he assumes is making his way to that very clearing. He is sure heda will want to know where the man responsible for Wildfire's condition is, after all.

The fighting begins as the weeping willow swims into vision. Heda goes after Cicero and Argent-Étoille follows, ever the obedient soldier. In a novel, the words would flow with poetry and death, capturing the intimate intricacies of teeth and blood and the creeping nausea overcoming him. But real life does not move so slowly painted. There are bodies on either side -- Étoille-Argent feels the sudden sting of pain blossoming against the right side of his skull, snarls, a haziness descending upon him. "Heda," he grinds out, dread descending upon him, but what the cause is he cannot say. An inexperienced fighter to begin with, crippled by the affects of the spores, the titan's fighting grows largely ineffectual and slow, but he will remain by heda's side until victory or defeat arrives to take them.