Big Salmon Lake I must say

@Cathal

it'd been a long few days. cicero walked these lands not as an outlander, but now rakkr for forneskja. he had a home, but he'd yet to delve into his purpose. a healer that needed to prove himself. so he'd set out with the rising sun, rummaging for whatever he could find to help add to the pack's stash of herbs and tinctures. 

his fur of midnight now dotted with snowy-white stars, he limped toward the lake, where perhaps he'd manage to find something peeking through the snow upon the shore. but then there's a scent—one faintly familiar. iseldur—the man cloaked in sun. a good, familiar face, one he'd enjoy speaking with again. 

only, as he followed that trail, it wasn't the knight. cicero found himself leering at a small thing struggling to navigate the deepening snowfall. a dog. and then he remembered; the knight had spoken of his squire, when they'd first met. 

he fixed his posture, hopeful as to not appear as a threat, or perhaps a predator looking to make an easy meal of the dog. it'd be bad manners to eat a friends squire, after all. "good morning, little squire. i do not know if iseldur had spoken of me—i am a friend. do you need assistance?"