Bearclaw Valley Three Musketeers

sorry for my delay, first week of new work was exhausting so not been on the pc much. :)

Cicero calmly followed. He had left the lands of Blackfeather Woods more often than his siblings, and while he had always laughed at everything as a child, Cicero had grown more serious in recent times. He had considered a great deal about life and his place in it. As Cicero grew more aware of himself and his surroundings, he had become less amused by the darkness that surrounded him, although he accepted it as a part of him. Damien accepted his darkness, Cicero knew; he was a savage beast, and yet here he stood, excited like the child that he still was. It showed Cicero how little Damien really knew of himself, how little he understood of his own nature. If he understood better, perhaps he would be serious like Cicero. Perhaps he would consider where his place stood. Or perhaps Damien understood as well as Cicero that there was a darkness in him, but he accepted and savoured it rather than to consider exactly what it made him.

When they arrived, Cicero was snapped from his thoughts. He howled alongside Potema to announce their arrival, and watched as Damien and Potema bounded off.

Cicero followed behind his siblings at a leisurely trot while he studiously observed the surroundings. Bearclaw Valley, so far, reminded him a bit of Scarlett. It was so light and welcoming; nothing like Blackfeather Woods.

Nothing like Cicero.