Chimera Fields Winged

@Persia

a saccharine scent had come with a frigid breeze—and with it, another wolf. cicero had long set aside his fruitless efforts of finding herbs. the cold weather and the never ending snow was at war with him, and he on the losing side. yet another knife to twist in his turmoil; a failed healer, once so brilliant...

and now what is he? 

a scavenger. a lowly thing, like a yipping coyote. it disgusted even himself, but as he prowled silently amongst the forest's edge, following that ichor, he couldn't ignore his hunger. it clawed as his insides, made saliva form in his maw. perhaps i am nothing but a dog.

there was a break in the trees, a clearing where a figure sat on its haunches, unaware and seemingly distracted. cicero stalked—more like limped—closer, his alabaster gaze trained on the young man. he seemed...troubled.

"you are going to sour your appetite, moping like that." he spoke, wary yet calm as he stood a few paces away.