Blackfeather Woods the good, the bad, the crazy

For the pups to return to the dark woods was a massive undertaking. Fortunately for the trio, Euron was remarkably observant and recognized many guiding landmarks, and Ramsay had a keen nose for tracking; it was he who ultimately lead them back and connected those dots.

Euron had never looked more like his father than he did when the pups finally reached Blackfeather. Though he was a talented mouser and had caught several rodents along the trip, it had not been enough. His body had withered and his coat now rippled over his ribcage. He had always been possessed of a thin frame but he had been sleek before and not rawboned like his father — like he was now. Despite this, the boy still travelled well. The return had eaten some of his muscle but not his spirit and determination.

Ramsay continued to lead them, picking up Cicero's trail inside the forest and untangling it from the web of scents therein. The blood lead them to an old den.

Euron stepped forward and peered into the shadows.

"Cicero?"