Blackfeather Woods and you've seen too much

Pietro often tried to get up as early as his father did, but mostly he only succeeded in missing him by no less than mere minutes. This morning had been a little longer. A lot longer, actually. Burke had been gone for over an hour, and as Pietro woke and tried following his paling scent, he consequently got bored and decided to explore on his own in the dawnlit fogwoods. He was trotting along, head and tail too high for his own good, before he noticed the slouched, ambling form of his older brother. "Cicero," he called, rather unkindly, trotting towards him stiffly. It was only then that boy began to smell and subsequently notice that something was really wrong with the two-toned wolf. His ears pressed forward, and he followed the skulking scout in sharp attention.

"Cicero?" his tone turned questioning, coming right up to investigate the male boldly, even if it was a detriment to his own health. "What's wrong with you?"