Blackfeather Woods step or stone, breath or bone

The brown wolf stopped his retreat at last, and Cicero stopped in his tracks too. He stepped from the shadows slightly to display his duo-toned face and sat down as he watched the wolf. The wolf seemed offended or amused -- Cicero could not quite tell -- by being dubbed 'wolftoy', and Cicero looked at him with tilted head, though he did not seem sorry at all. He did not know this wolf's name, and the world, to Cicero, was a playground. It was unclear whether Cicero would decide to refrain from calling the wolf 'toy' in the future, for he did not address this issue at all.

It interested Cicero that herbs could not only give life -- he had seen his mother use herbs for healing -- but also take it. Cicero knew there were herbs that made you vomit easier, though he knew it was often used to give life, too, if you had eaten something awful; but there were more uses to be considered there. He looked at the wolf with a somewhat eerie smirk on his face. "Wolf knows about killing herbs?" Cicero asked the brown wolf, curiosity clear on his face, but lacking a child's innocence as he posed the question. He was perhaps not as dark as his brother, who would seize any opportunity to destroy a life, but Cicero was interested in dark matters all the same.