Blackfeather Woods i'm coming home

An answer to his question had not been given, which only made him wonder more. Was it the shame of a lost battle that kept him silent? An error on his part? He knew mountains stood between the woods and the valley, as well as that they could be troublesome in traversing if one was not careful enough. Rather than questioning it any further, Kove chose to drop the topic; even if he were to pursue it, the likelihood of him getting any answers seemed nonexistent. Still, his curiosity was not quelled entirely, simply pushed aside for the time being.

"He has," the Inuit responded. Despite having not seen the other boy in awhile, his scent was too recent around the woods to be from before his trip. "Do you want me to get him for you?" Or anyone, for that matter. The wounds didn't look serious, but they couldn't possibly be pleasant. Kove knew next to nothing when it came to treating injuries, but he was sure someone else in the woods did. Damien's skills in treating the wounded were doubted heavily, but the two were brothers. Perhaps the support alone could help. Little did he know the the darkened boy was, possibly, the last wolf Cicero wished to see.