Meadowlark Prairie turn your wounds into wisdom

The sensation of the blisters crawling through his tongue was pleasant and yet uncomfortable at the same time, as it always was. Before taking another small bite from the poison ivy Cicero took a glance around, and it was good that he did so, for there was someone nearby that he had not noted before. He stiffened, mismatched eyes glancing in the direction of the feline while he tried to gauge whether or not the feline would pose an immediate threat to him. The feline did not appear to be threatening, for now, but Cicero never truly trusted other beings; there were few wolves he truly trusted, let alone other creatures that inhabited the lands.

His mismatched eyes sought the face of the feline, whose eyes were a bright, nearly poisonously so green. His gaze lifted, he left the poison ivy alone for now as he asked, "What does the cat want?"