Blackfeather Woods step or stone, breath or bone

Finally, he stopped entirely, wheeling to face the shadows beneath the trees.  This was a child he reminded himself, and he had nothing to be afraid of.  A child showing healthy curiosity for one of Aesop's burgeoning interests, at that.  He wouldn't be afraid, he wouldn't make mountains out of mole hills.

He puffed a breath of air through his nose, amused.  "Wolftoy?" he asked, equal parts amused and offended.  "I'm no toy, Cicero."  His name, presumably.  The youth was as strange in speech as he looked, calling Aesop "wolftoy" and speaking in third person.  He wouldn't begrudge the boy a lesson, though, so he simply said, "herbs can do a lot.  Ease pain, cause it; give life, take it.  Just as dangerous as teeth if you know what you're doing."