The Heartwood let's talk about you and me

Even though he had no direct intent to leave, Burke's question had opened possibilities. Cicero did not think he would leave the pack any time soon, but apparently it was normal for young wolves to do so. Maybe he would, some day, if the circumstances called for it, but for now Cicero had at least one thing that tied him to Blackfeather Woods. Perhaps if things went sour there. But somehow, Cicero felt that he belonged with Blackfeather, and it would not be so easy to find his place anywhere else in the world, in any other pack.

When Burke turned right, Cicero asked him, "What did Burke find?" He sniffed the air, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps he stood too far from it, or perhaps his nose was not as refined as Burke's, either through age or talent.

Upon Burke's question, Cicero looked thoughtful a moment. It was a long time since he had thought of his father; he did not know his father, and was not sure if he had ever even met him. If he had, it had been when he was very small, for he did not remember anything about him. "Cicero has no father," he answered in the end, his face void of emotion.