Lion Head Mesa Canis Major, Canis Minor, Canis... Mediocris?

Quiet flinched at the sharp prod on her side, turning to see the mottled wolf stride towards the pale one a few lengths away. She was curious, not knowing that Cicero was the resident spymaster of the pack, but she decided to respect his wishes and hang back, only sneaking close enough to hear their conversation. Who was this mewling little wolf and why was Cicero so interested in him?

She listened as Cicero spoke to the wolf, his voice strangely compassionate towards him. Was he a friend then? Quiet didn't like Cicero's choice in friends, based on the pale wolf's whining. But this mention of a poisoned rabbit...was that Cicero's doing? Or another Dark Sibling? Quiet was intrigued, and hunkered down in the grass, watching.