Whitewater Gorge new pack on the block

no problem -- i'm dutch too, anyway. (: thanks for joining!

Once someone approached, Cicero noted no aggression in their step. There was a tenseness about the other, but it made sense, for Cicero himself often felt tense upon meeting new wolves (even moreso after what had happened with the white wolf on his last outriding journey). It soon became clear to him that this wolf was part of the nearby pack that he was scouting out, which would further explain how they might feel about visitors. Not yet accustomed, or perhaps, like the Dark Brotherhood, not comfortable with them.

Posture remained neutral upon her approach, and Cicero's expression was neutral. The healing wounds on the side of his face would hopefully speak enough for his lack of danger, Cicero imagined, though it did not even occur to him one might think it meant he was a fighter. He did not look much like a fighter, after all, since he was small and his thin fur gave him a homeless sort of expression. The only thing to counter the look was the scent of Blackfeather Woods that he carried about him.

A thin smile appeared on Cicero's otherwise emotionless face. "Good day." He considered how to further choose his words, for though his scent might betray that he was a pack wolf, he still wished for more information on the pack. "What a picturesque place for pack territory," he remarked, deciding not to ask for any information head-on. Even the most innocent of conversations held information, after all, and there was no use interrogating another wolf so close to their own border by firing endless questions.