Greatwater Lake i won't let you suffer

"Cicero," Luke repeated with a smile, tail waving. The name had a nice ring to it, it flowed off the tongue freely. Perhaps the young male thought so too, for he spoke in the third person, which the white wolf found charming.

His ear turned more forward at the mention of a dark forest. Was this the same forest that Mordecai and Kero had spoke of? Luke had not encountered anyone from that pack, and thus could not match Cicero's scent to it. For all he knew, there could be more than one dark forest too. Whether it was or was not, however, did not matter at this time. Luke assessed others on his own experience, not on the anecdotes of others. Though he kept note of their warnings and to some degree adjusted his wariness, this wolf had done nothing wrong, and so Luke carried on.

"It's quieter too," Luke said. "I like a quiet night. Though I don't mind when the frog's sing," he added. "There's a peacefulness in the dark, isn't there? But," he chuckled. "I am not so good at remaining unseen in it. Especially when the moon is out, I swear it makes my pelt glow." A white pelt against the shadow of night - nope, no contrast there.