Blackfeather Woods the good, the bad, the crazy

He was content to sit at the back, the shadowy observer as always, until Euron's exclamation dispelled his worries. Maegi was quick to crowd into the entrance as well and the dwarf, blocked from doing so, did the best he could to peek over his siblings' backs. It didn't quite work out for him, but Cicero eventually dragged himself out into the dim forest light, and Ramsay's short tail began to wag.

He offered scarcely even a look when Euron cast around for someone to heal Cicero. The only wolf with any potential expertise among them was Maegi. Ramsay was finely crafted for tracking and his short, thick body made for an efficient battering ram, but of finer arts, he knew little. Euron even had a better chance than he did. Rather than attempting to help with the myriad wounds, he simply stated, "dead is dead and alive is alive," and left his assistance at that. Cicero wasn't dead yet.

While the others tended to their tasks, Cicero offered to take them somewhere safe, and Ramsay played the role of informant for once. "Pack is that way," he said, turning swiftly to the north and jabbing his square muzzle in that direction, "but Vaati is making too many threats and strange wolves challenge him. One said he would rape them til their rectums bleed." Ramsay still didn't realize that Ithrik had been talking about them. He didn't even know what the threat meant. "Pack is doomed with Vaati and pro'ly doomed with them, too," he cryptically concluded, then turned back to Cicero for his advice. The prints on his shoulders were much faded from when they were applied, and distorted by his growth.

Ramsay had the fleeting notion that asking for them to be reapplied while Cicero was in such bad shape was rude, and didn't.