Bramblepoint Every night my dream’s the same

Cicero thanked the newly introduced Floki for the information and confirmed her assumption that his name was in fact Cicero. She shot a thin smile at him and wagged her tail briefly before her eyes travelled back to the icy coloured blues of the Moonspear wolf. They didn’t at all match what she could only guess his disposition might be; a guess based only on the camaraderie he seemed to emanate, hurried though he might have been.

She thought for a moment with hackles that bristled slightly at the notion of the violence he described. "Moonspear? I think I know where that is," she said uncertainly as she glanced in the general direction she thought it was. "That way?" she asked, making a tilting motion with her slender muzzle. "If I cross paths with him I can try to let you know on my way back." She was willing to make what was hardly a detour at all if it might help them track the vagrant down. Because the wolf had fallen from a mountain, Sassafras had very little fear of being attacked herself. It occurred to her that she might have some trouble identifying him unless he was truly smashed to bits. The Wilds were a vast place with many a creature waiting in the shadows, if a three-way chance meeting was anything to go by.

"I’m Sassafras," she agreeably offered to both wolves, slighting no one.