Blackfoot Forest i will not die

No true answers were given to his questions. It disappointed Cicero that she did not further delve into the conversation. He had always enjoyed conversations with philosophical nature, but it seemed that she did not. When she asked if he was satisfied, he replied: "No." The sparkle left his eyes, the smile faded and the normal neutral expression returned to the frail male's face. He did not care if anyone sounded snippy, but he was disappointed that he could not play any games. The information game was one of his favourites, but so was philosophising about life. It seemed she wanted to play neither. Rosings, though — he mentally mapped the name for later purposes, incase he'd ever need it.

A single ear turned in the direction of the earlier rustles, and it was not long before Cicero turned his head towards the male. He offered a respectful dip of his head in returned greeting while the other introduced himself as Aaron. Cicero still did not know the name of the female, for she had never given it to him. The male cut right to the chase by asking him about his pack, and seeing no reasons to lie, Cicero decided to be frank. "Cicero comes from Blackfeather Woods. It is on the other side of the mountains." He glanced in the direction of the mountains, before turning back to look at Aaron. "Are all Rosings wolves so secretive?" asked Cicero with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. While he spoke he exchanged a quick glance with the female, although his question was clearly directed at Aaron.