Blackfeather Woods oathkeeper

Sheogorath picked up that it seemed a rare thing for the brutish boy to both have an interest in anything that wasn't fighting (even if it was about deadly things) as well as the fact that he offered to help. Of course, it wasn't really a trade in any sort of way — it wasn't like teaching him invaluable information would really make it worth getting a few herbs out of it that he could've found himself. But Sheogorath recognised that if the boy was capable of offering things in return, that meant he also understood the value of the teachings and that he may form at least some sort of loyalty.

After a short moment of thought Sheogorath decided, "Very well, I will teach you. Most of my experience was taken by just doing things, you know, so the information I hold is very valuable. It may well have cost me my life in my younger days, had I been less..." He would've liked to have been able to say 'careful', but that wasn't really the case. "... Lucky." Or rather, had Cicero been less lucky. He, well, he wasn't sure he would've been as thorough in his studies as Cicero at all. The allure of the pain poisons brought was tempting, but ultimately not worth the risk in his eyes. Cicero feared death less than he did; perhaps because he'd had so much more life thus far, or because he had more control as he was more often in control.

"Truly, though, most of what I can teach you, I will have to teach you when the weather improves and there are more poisonous plants about. But we can look if there are any caches left, or see if we can find any shriveled up plants that are still good." He set off again then, assuming that Asthen would follow.