Meadowlark Prairie Can't see the stars, but we're reaching

The patchwork wolf followed the boy from along the frays of Blackfeather Woods with watchful eye, curious where he was making his way to. Not many wolves within the forest's darkness seemed to care much, but Cicero did, for their stuntedness and imperfection reminded him of himself and it was something to cling onto in the darkness of everything else. Something that kept him here, just like Damien kept him here, except differently so: With Damien, it was a love that kept him close, but with these pups, it was a protectiveness, a feeling of being needed somehow.

Ragged ears swivelled forward as Ramsay made contact with a stranger. She looked harmless, but Cicero stayed close nonetheless. He did not like the brightness of the outside world and he did not like how cold everything was, considering his thin, wiry fur did not protect him as well as Damien or Potema's did. There was little shelter along the prairie so they might notice him, he idly realised as he came closer through the snow with steady and slow pace, but he tried to stay stealthy enough so they may not notice as he came within hearing distance, approaching from the side and hiding behind a snowy patch of what might once've been a bush of sorts, but was now just a white lump.

feel free to skip me if they don't notice him :)