Blackfeather Woods that's not true--that's impossible!

hope you dont mind an ette!

He is learning to wear the shadows well, though he does not know if acclimation is his ultimate goal. Now that he has a face associated with the strife, it is easier to bear down and focus. It would be a fool's errand to return to Redhawk Caldera now and give away his position. He's much more valuable on the inside like this, close enough to Cicero to keep watch on him. But Cicero isn't what he expected at all -- a strangely meek looking creature, and while he wonders if that's part of an act, to make himself appear more harmless until he needs to strike, part of it leaves Argent a little disappointed. It will be easy enough to crush him, when the time comes.

Such violent thoughts do not linger in the titan. He walks through the forest in easy steps now, taking time to map the strange ins and outs of the dark woods. There are parts he cannot reach yet, but as he winds his way through the grotto, a tiny voice catches his attention. Curious, Argent pulls closer until he makes out the shape of a child. A small white thing, around the age of Ramsay - a littermate, perhaps? at the foot of a stone of vague import. Argent does not know Blackfeather's religion, beyond being aware there is a spirituality he cannot grasp yet, but the energy in the air feels... charged.

He approaches cautiously, curiously, but does not near the stones. For some reason, they weird him out. "Are you all right," he asks, his voice low and gentle in the air.