Wild Berry Meadow for science!

because cicero needs more threads! anyone :)

It was not that he was a particular fan of the flavour berries provided, it was just that he was curious for what grew here in terms of herbs. Perhaps any of these could provide him with more information, perhaps some of them would be poisonous (which seemed rather dangerous, to him, to unsuspecting fools; a form of natural selection, perhaps?). As he wandered into the meadow he felt it was an altogether too cheerful place for him to be in, but Cicero pressed on, allowing his underfed form to slink through the meadow.

He was no pretty sight to see, Cicero, his eyes sunken further than usual, cheekbones jutted out, ribs and spine showing through his thin fur. He'd never looked very well fed, but the famine had left its mark on him. "Ah," he said when he saw a berry plant he did not recognise with bright red berries. He could not help but wonder if they would be poisonous or not, and so he reached out to take a bite and find out.

hope you don't mind if I hop in!

Amos milled about, not up to anything in particular. There was nothing but an assortment of berries to pique his interest, and even that wasn't something he considered invigorating. The large male grumbled under his breath as he was caught up in the meadow's tall stalks of grass, a final tug ripping him free rrom its clutches. The meadow was a cheery place, but Amos found that it wasn't his favorite relaxation spot. Somewhere cooler -- perhaps the shade cast by a tree would be much better. Oh well, he was here now. Why not explore?

That's when something caught his eye. Another form, slinking through the grass a few feet away. The scent told him it was a wolf, but not someone he recognized. Amos shrugged. He wasn't the social type, so it's not like he'd recognize this wolf anyway. He let out a small sigh. Letting his presence be known was better than being stumbled across and faced with hostility. He wanted to make sure this wolf knew he was not looking for a quarrel.

Amos walked towards the other male, who seemed to be reluctantly reaching for a bite of some sort of berry plant. He raised a brow -- did this wolf know if those were poisonous? He himself had no idea, so he decided not to remark on it. Instead, he held his head high, and spoke, hoping to interrupt the possible bad decision the other male was about to make.

"Hello. I am Amos," was all that he said. It pained him of how bad he was at starting conversations, but those emotions weren't evident as he kept his amber gaze on the unfamiliar face.

not at all, thank you for joining! :D

Just as Cicero tentatively plucked a berry from the bush and milled it over with his teeth, he heard another's voice. Ear turned to the side and then he turned to look at the wolf who had just freely given up his name. Cicero grinned at that, finding it endearing in a way that this wolf would give his name rather than first call out a greeting or see if he was friendly or not. Of course, as emaciated-looking as he was, there was little Cicero looked like he could do to another wolf, anyway.

"Cicero," he returned at the exchange of names. He turned the berry in his mouth and wondered aloud, "Is this a food berry or a poison berry?" It tasted like regular berry, to be truthful, and so far he was not experiencing any negative effects; although he knew with berries, such effects were often not known until a far later stage, anyway.

The other wolf returned his query with a grin, which Amos did not understand. He had asked a question, not told a joke. He decided to put those thoughts behind him as the male spoke his name. "Nice to meet you, Cicero." With Amos' gruff tone, "nice to meet you" didn't match the way he uttered the words with what appeared to be disinterest.

The male watched as Cicero held the berry in his mouth. "It is a life or death berry. Take your chances," he responded gruffly to Cicero's question. Sure, he could be humble and even humorous around ones that he knew, but to most he appeared to be a stoic, blantant wolf. In a sense, he took almost everything literally. Amos glanced at the other wolf, contemplating what he would say next. "I guess there is only one way to figure it out."

This wolf seemed rather gruff, but the way he had introduced himself right off the bat seemed to imply that he was not as antisocial as his tone of voice and body language implied. He was probably just a little helpless, rough around the edges, and so Cicero took no offence in the gruff way that he spoke and acted, intrigued by the difference between what he said and how he said it.

There was a twinge of humour shining through when he spoke of the berry. Cicero was not sure if it was truly humour or simply a disinterest in the berry, a desire to move on to the subject. Regardless of which, Cicero's teeth snapped the berry in half and after chewing brief he swallowed. It tasted a little strange, but Cicero wasn't sure if that meant it was good or bad; truthfully, he'd eaten so many poisonous plants in his life that he was not quite sure he could tell the difference anymore. He turned to look at Amos and said, "Probably poison, considering its foul taste... but one would need to eat a lot of it to undertake any effect, so not quite a death berry yet." Berries were a typical thing, he knew, as many of them infected organs without really showing the damage until it was too late. Yet he felt as though Amos did not hold particular interest towards them, considering he had pushed on the moment that Cicero ate the berry. "So, does Amos have a home in the area?" he asked curiously, mismatched eyes turning to his companion.

His eyes narrowed as Cicero snapped the berry up, expecting him either to be fine or keel over. The other male announced that they were in fact poisonous. Now Amos really expected him to kick the bucket. His confusion was explained as the male futher elaborated that a large quantity was needed for the poison to effect him.

Amos heard his voice again, turning to return his gaze. "A home?" He chuffed lightly -- he didn't have a place to call home. "I am a lone wolf. I'd say my home changes maybe...twice every week." Amos responded, glancing around the grassy meaddow. If he had not encountered anyone, Amos would've passed through here without batting an eye.

He turned his thoughts back to the conversation. "So, where do you come from?" He assumed it wasn't here, since the other male smelled different.

"Hmm," Cicero mused thoughtfully in response to this Amos' reply. Perhaps that was why he was so rusty in his social behaviour; he was not always around others, like Cicero. Though he stuck to the shadows a lot of the time, the Blackfeather wolf was used to always having some around, so long as he was in the direct area.

The question was returned and he answered: "Blackfeather Woods." He turned his head in the Woods' direction, though one could not see it from where they stood, as though to gesture where it lay. "Between here and the Sunspire mountains." He itched to ask if the travels never did get old — although he, himself, had been out and about for weeks upon weeks as a scout, away from home, so he imagined no — but decided instead to wait and see what the wolf would say or do next.

sorry for the late response--on vacation and trying my best to keep up on mobile!

Amos followed the other male's gaze to the treeline, attempting to get a grasp of where his pack was. For a lone wolf, he wasn't the best when it came to directions. The loner's thoughts were cleared up as Cicero added a few words of where his pack was near to. A pack wolf, I assumed as much,he said, with little explanation as to why he had thought so. The other male's scent wasn't one he had smelled before. 

May I ask why you are out here? Amos' tone was mostly flat but his a hint of curiosity. He knew not of pack life, assuming that Cicero was just taking a stroll away from his home.

no problem, i'm a bit busy myself too, as you can tell by the later response ^^;

Cicero grinned as the wolf asked why he was out here. He shared, "Cicero is a scout, so he often explores for the sake of his pack." It wasn't truly why he enjoyed being out here — he also simply loved being outside, out and about, and away from it all for a little while. But he did not share this with Amos, for it seemed irrelevant right now.

"What drives Amos away from a steady home?" he asked, curious about the details of the lone wolf existance that he had chosen.

He raised a brow; this male had a strange way of speaking, but he didn't let it faze him. "A scout? What sort of mission do they have you on?" He queried, glancing at the pack wolf. He honestly didn't know what business Cicero had out here in the middle of a field, but maybe it was something important.

He snapped back to reality upon hearing the male's question. "A steady home?" Amos could not help but let an amused chuff escape his jaws. "Never had that."

Cicero licked his lips as the question on his mission was posed and he shook his head. "None for now, but any information is useful, and so scouting even without missions is rarely useless." Even meeting this Amos wolf and checking out the berries was useful, even though the berry question was more related to his toxicology work than his scouting work, he supposed. Yet even things as simple as knowing the lay of the lands were useful as a scout and as a pack wolf, in case this information were ever needed.

"Never?" Cicero queried, surprised. "Not even as a pup?" Had he been born in the wilds, raised by badgers? Or had his mother been a lone wolf and had he been lucky to survive, without the comfort of a pack to provide?

"I see," Amos mused as he listened to Cicero's explanation. It was all very interesting to him. The life of a packwolf had meaning, and everything they did seemed to have some sort of purpose, be it self-fulfillment or an aid to the pack itself.

The next question took him by surpise. "I suppose never was sort of an overstatement. As a pup I had parents for a while, but after a while of caring for me, I suppose they got tired of it. Left me in the early stages and never came back," he muttered, rolling his shoulders back in a shrug. He wasn't filled with rage over the matter, but was rather curious on why they left in the first place.

Cicero was surprised to hear that Amos hadn't had parents for long. It also explained his behaviour, Cicero felt, in the way that he acted. Coming close, and yet he was so far away. "It must be have been tough," Cicero said, though his voice nor face showed no hints of emotion to go with such a statement.

"Cicero should head home," he then shared, and he waited a brief moment to see if Amos wanted any more information from him — or needed to share any more — before slipping into the shadows.

He grimaced. "It was tough, but I still live to tell the tale," he shrugged, muscles rolling back underneath his dark fur. His tone conveyed no emotions as well, mouth pressed in a thin line. His eyes, however, were brimming with emotion that would take a second glance to notice. He shook his head in attempts to clear his thoughts, though not much was even on his mind at the moment.

"It was nice meeting you, Cicero," he rumbled, tail wagging in a friendly manner. It seemed the other male was making his leave, so he would do just the same.