Nocturne Summit New Bohemia

Cicero had smelled a pack's boundaries nearby, and he had climbed Nocturne Summit only so that he may better gauge the other pack out there. He had rolled along the shore's salt and mud to distance himself from Blackfeather Woods in case it would prove useful — in case he would find out where the Blacktail Deer Plateau wolves had moved, perhaps. Cicero had come here to be alone and mull over in his head all that had happened to him of late. So much had happened, and it felt good to have been on the road a lot, meeting new wolves and furthering Blackfeather Woods' — or at least Cicero's own — connections to other packs out there.

It was hard to push what had happened with the white wolf from his mind. He had done so as best he could, but the fear that beat inside his heart — a fear of which he was not even sure whether it beat for the white wolf or for Sheogorath — always reminded him of what had happened. Of what he had probably caused to happen. He was not sure he could, nor would, ever tell anyone what had happened that day. It feared him to think that Sheogorath might, were he to rear his ugly head again in the future. And considering the fear lurking in Cicero's heart, he knew that he would be provoked again eventually.

While he walked aimlessly along Nocturne Summit, Cicero felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes and roll down his cheeks. He was not usually emotional, and he did not remember grieving like this even over his own mother's death. But this was different, for something inside of him had been taken, and it was not just his virginity. His heart beat with love for his brother, a love he was now beginning to doubt would ever be returned if not only because of the fear that had been unlocked. A fear he had never felt before, for he had always been so certain that Damien would see the truth of their fate sooner or later. Now he was not so sure.

With much on his mind, Cicero slipped around the corner and saw a ledge that he approached. He was quick to bite back the emotions that were overflowing so freely when he saw another wolf there. Unaware that she could understand his grief better than most, Cicero sniffled one last time before he regained his composure and nodded at her while he approached the ledge. His posture remained neutral, tail hanging low at his hocks, though he felt tense on the inside after his uncomfortable and unusual outburst. He did not fear her, for she was but female and there was nothing that she could take from him that he regarded as precious, but in case she would respond poorly he did not fully approach, first chuffing to announce his presence.