Wild Berry Meadow Spring time!

Cicero's tension melted when the wolf kept his distance. The patchwork wolf himself tried to keep at least a few wolf lengths between himself and the stranger, although he sensed that the chocolate furred wolf was of little threat. He reminded Cicero a little of Goober, what with the uppity attitude, and saw no threat in him (if only he knew). It frustrated Cicero that he was so frightened these days; he did not even know whether the white wolf had taken him by force or if it had been a mutual agreement made with Sheogorath. It lead Cicero to wonder who he was really afraid of; the white wolf or other males that could take what they wanted from him, or the shadowed beast that slumbered within Cicero?

Trying not to focus on Sheogorath, Cicero shook his head and looked mildly apologetic, though he did not apologise, for it would only make him appear more confused and less sane. Cicero nodded and said: "Cicero is of Blackfeather Woods." He gestured his nose in the Woods' direction. "It is a dark forest near the mountain ridge that splits the Teekon Wilds." He awaited introduction, and in the meantime suggested: "Blackfeather Woods is a dark sort of place where the wolves look after one another. Cicero could tell of other packs, if the wolf wishes." Cicero didn't really think this wolf would be very suited for Blackfeather Woods, truthfully, but he was eager to find out more about him so that he could at least assess whether he would be valuable to it, now or in the future.