Blackfeather Woods oathkeeper

@Cicero

 

Moonlight dappled onto the forest floor, giving off an eerie light for anybody that was out and about at the very late hour. At this time Atshen's weary paws carried him from the borders and towards the den that he shared with his family. Though they were all nearly full-grown, they were still living together, and Atshen often found himself sleeping at odd hours to sleep at a time where there was more space in the den. 

Though he was physically tired, his mind was as awake as ever. As a result of this, the raven-haired Silencer slowed his pace to a meander as he wove through the trees. Though his final destination would be the family den, for now, he took his time getting back to them.

Night was the forest's time to shine, even if it wasn't always clear when it was day or night at some of its depths. Sheogorath was not as avid a poison collector as Cicero — perhaps because he didn't use it to drug himself quite as much — but with the harsh winter nearly all of the poison caches Cicero'd left behind were gone, the herbs ruined, so Sheogorath had decided to see if he could find any more. He rooted around a place, knowing for sure Cicero'd hidden something here at one point, but unable to find the exact point, his memory a haze laced with rage and lust.

He turned his head when he heard footfalls nearby and watched from the shadows, but when the light revealed Atshen's outlines Sheogorath turned back to his search mission. The children of Nemesis intrigued him, especially this one who had looked at Potema's children in such a way, but he needed to find the cache and he could always do chit-chat later, if the child did not find him first.

It was in his wandering that the night-pelted Silencer caught wind of his packmate and fellow leader. Instantly curious, as he and the Speaker did not interact much, Atshen paused and turned his attention towards the other wolf, perking to attention. 

He did not pursue the man with the bi-colored eyes at first. Instead, he lingered and watched, curious to know what he was doing out at such an hour. When it wasn't blatantly obvious what his fellow leader was looking for, Atshen pressed him, following wordlessly.

An ear flicked back when he noticed that he was being followed. Sheo tried to catch trail of something, anything, but it was a hard find. After walking for half an hour or so he stopped, and turned to look at the child. A leader, perhaps, but still a child, too. Sheogorath slunk towards him, a grin on his face as he said, "It is admirable to practise one's spying skills, but perhaps following the master of such things is a step too far." He had no idea how the child would react, knowing very little about him; he was intriguing, but Sheogorath had had little interaction with Atshen so far.

The most he had been with the child was when he had protected his sister's children. "What are you looking for, so late at night?" he asked, even if he didn't think it strange for anyone to wander around the woods at night; he did not doubt he was not the only one who enjoyed nightly trips of different variations.

Atshen was not discreet in his following. Instead of tiptoeing, the boy walked with heavy steps and took little care in avoiding any terrain that might have alerted any others of his presence. He was not surprised when Cicero when he stopped to turn and to this, Atshen paused and looked at his fellow leader. 

He made no movement to remark on the Speaker and instead only opted to answer his question. "Nothing," Atshen said simply, looking to the two-toned man. "What are you looking for?" 

There was a haunting stoicism about the boy as he answered, one of which Sheogorath could not yet determine whether it was driven by an intelligent introvert or simply a dumb brute. Perhaps the truth was somewhere in the middle, but there was simply something about the boy that exuded a creepiness he was not sure he could match. He wondered if others felt the same.

Nothing. Sheogorath rolled his narrow shoulders in a shrug as he answered in turn, "Not much. Herb caches I may have left behind. Fresh ones are not in very high stock at the moment." It being winter, and all. He hoped he'd be able to find one of Cicero's left-over caches, but it was not a matter of life and death if he would not find it today.

The Speaker's words intrigued Atshen, and he leaned in, curious. "Herbs?" He repeated slowly as if committing the thought to memory. He had had little experience with herbs, but the idea of them always brought on an uncharacteristic sense of curiosity in the boy. 

"Are they deadly herbs?" He ventured, drawing upon his own interests in this situation to keep their conversation going. If the herbs included death, Atshen was more than sure to keep pressing on the subject.

It surprised him that the boy should care at all when it came to herbs. The interest seemed uncharacteristic and was surprising. Yet soon he asked if they were deadly herbs and Sheogorath understood his fascination with the subject a bit better, perhaps because it aligned so with his own.

But should he teach the boy? Cicero would have said no to the wolf who held the place once given to Nemesis herself. But Sheogorath? He did not really care, though he wondered what it would bring about to teach the boy anything. He was not sure whether to expect gratitude, loyalty, or anything of the sort from the boy, or if he should just be happy enough to watch him burn the world down with the knowledge given freely.

"Yes, I am looking for deadly herbs," said Sheogorath. The boy seemed not to know him very well if he thought it might be any other way. In his youth, Cicero had spent a lot of time learning about all herbs, poisons and beneficial ones both, but he had since long left behind the healing sort. He waited, then, to see if the boy would ask.

His eyes gleamed at the news, and he pressed forward a step closer to Sheogorath. Atshen's attention was entirely focused on the other leader, and he found himself suddenly all the more interested in what the other wolf was doing. Cutting right to the chase, Atshen pressed on in his curiosity, hoping that the other would oblige. 

"Can you teach me about them?" He asked, his voice a gentle rumble. "I can help you find some," he offered as an afterthought. Such offerings were a rarity for the Silencer.

Sheogorath picked up that it seemed a rare thing for the brutish boy to both have an interest in anything that wasn't fighting (even if it was about deadly things) as well as the fact that he offered to help. Of course, it wasn't really a trade in any sort of way — it wasn't like teaching him invaluable information would really make it worth getting a few herbs out of it that he could've found himself. But Sheogorath recognised that if the boy was capable of offering things in return, that meant he also understood the value of the teachings and that he may form at least some sort of loyalty.

After a short moment of thought Sheogorath decided, "Very well, I will teach you. Most of my experience was taken by just doing things, you know, so the information I hold is very valuable. It may well have cost me my life in my younger days, had I been less..." He would've liked to have been able to say 'careful', but that wasn't really the case. "... Lucky." Or rather, had Cicero been less lucky. He, well, he wasn't sure he would've been as thorough in his studies as Cicero at all. The allure of the pain poisons brought was tempting, but ultimately not worth the risk in his eyes. Cicero feared death less than he did; perhaps because he'd had so much more life thus far, or because he had more control as he was more often in control.

"Truly, though, most of what I can teach you, I will have to teach you when the weather improves and there are more poisonous plants about. But we can look if there are any caches left, or see if we can find any shriveled up plants that are still good." He set off again then, assuming that Asthen would follow.

The prospect of anything deadly was often a motivator for the aspiring warrior, and such details were what kept his attention to his fellow leader. Unlike his other siblings, Atshen was not as cunning as they were. He did not have their quick wit, nor did he think as complexly as they did. But what he lacked in brains he made up for in brawn. Perhaps with the further motivation that some plants could kill, the Silencer would find himself learning a new trade. 

It was after a pause that Sheogorath agreed to teach. Smiling darkly, Atshen did not offer anything and instead listened on to what the man had to say. Taking his words lightly, as he felt her were invincible to such things, he nodded. He felt that he would not make the same mistakes that Cicero did, but, of course, only time would tell whether or not he would remain so painfully oblivious. 

He set off after the other male, his pace powered with leisurely swarth as he followed. "Are these deadly plants usually all over the woods?" he asked after a pause, his curiosity craving the information it desired.

Atshen nodded, but Sheogorath found it hard to gauge whether he was actually listening. Then, it always was with this youth, which made him unpredictable and dangerous; but those were the sort of things Sheogorath liked, so he did not feel uncomfortable.

"If one knows where to look, yes," Sheogorath said, and he realised how much he had to have sounded like Cicero in that moment. "The poison ivy, for example, grows on trees, taking over its host along the way. It looks a lot more dead and without leaves in winter, but it is still there. Just harder to find." It was one of the plants that actually, somewhat, survived through winter and because it wasn't hidden in the ground, was still easy to spot if one knew where to look.

Atshen often found it difficult to grasp information that had been given verbally. He was a kinesthetic learner to a tee, and perhaps it was through this learning style that he understood the finer details of combat. Though he knew that the learning would be a drueling task, he also knew that the rewards of such knowledge would be worth it in the end. 

Following the two-toned man's stride, Atshen walked alongside him, his eyes finding the others as information was given. Not fully grasping what Sheogorath said, Atshen attempted to dive deeper into the concept of poison ivy in an attempt to understand what was being explained. "Can you show me it?" He drawled as a look of concertraition spread upon his dark face. Perhaps if they could see it, then Atshen would more so understand the plant.

"If we find it, yes," said Sheogorath simply and he continued to walk. He wasn't too sure they'd find any; he knew Cicero had grown some here and there, but he hadn't checked as much on them this winter and his memory was hazy. A lot had perished during the famine and while some had regrown, winter had delivered yet another blow.

He continued to walk in silence until they came across a small pile of earth next to a tree. "Ah," he said with a glimmer in his eyes and he sniffed the earth. It had only a faint smell of Cicero on it but hopefully it was a jackpot situation. He started to dig without explaining himself, hoping to land upon the poison cache he was searching for.

The pair continued alongside each other until Sheogorath diverted off of the worn pathway. Atshen stuck to the road, but his curiosity drove his eyes to where the wolf dug into the earth. Craning his neck closer, Atshen watched on silently as Sheogorath churned the earth underpaw.

A few messed up herbs were taken from the earth and Sheogorath pawed them away from the dirt so that they could better look upon them. None of them were poisonous on touch, considering it was not very smart to hide those in a cache that one would dig into — well, with Cicero, one never knew — but Sheogorath recognised one of them as jimson weed, at least, and the others he squinted his eyes at; he'd have to look later.

"This herb creates a stomach ache and various other painful effects when ingested," said Sheogorath to Atshen. "It can be put in a rabbit or other dead prey and fed to others to make them ingest it." He glanced at his student, looking to see if he had grasped what he had just been told.

The hidden treasure was soon unearthed, and Atshen perked as he saw what had been hidden underneath the surface. A name was promptly given to the dark material, and Atshen lifted his eyes to meet the Speaker's mismatched gaze. 

There was a look of concentration behind the Silencer's stoic facade, and eventually, he nodded and stole a glance at the herb as his mind ran rampant at what all this powerful herb could do. "Does it grow in the forest?" he pondered aloud, looking to his mentor curiously,

Atshen asked a good question, Sheogorath noted, and he shook his head accordingly. From what he remembered it was not often found here. "Rarely. It is more commonly found in the open fields, as it prefers sunlight and drought." And neither of those were very abundant within this particular forest. Yet the herb was worth the trip.

Atshen nodded, though he did not fully grasp the concept. When it came to learning, he needed much more than "open fields"-- he needed precise instructions, as he was not one to think creatively. But, despite this, he did not voice any concerns. Instead, a new question came to mind. "What is the deadliest plant?" his tone was emotionless, yet, his eyes danced at the prospect.

The question seemed typical of the youth, so linear and devoid of creativity as it was. Sheogorath thought a moment, but there was no clear answer: "They are different, and there are many that are deadly in the right dose." Not the answer that the youth was looking for, no doubt, but it was the only right answer to give. "And fresh plants work better than dried ones. This thing is not going to kill anyone now." He looked at the herb again; it would hurt if one would eat it awhole, and give one good time to do as they pleased, even to kill — it amused Sheogorath that Atshen had not figured this out himself, but then, it was not hard to see he was not the sharpest crayon in the box — but a herb that did the killing... Various could, though mostly because of the abundancy of their effects. It was what happened with overdosing, not an effect on itself.

Sheogorath's answer did not satisfy Atshen's curiosity. When his interest was not peaked, the Silencer looked to the plants for a moment before returning his attention to the Toxicologist. "Have you ever killed with plants?" He asked, hoping that finally, something would interest him.

He had not expected that his answer would find Atshen amused. The brute did not seem the type to fall for such indirect answers. But it was the only answer he could give at the moment.

At the question, he clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth before he answered, "Yes." It was mostly foxes, animals of prey, and small things he had killed. Wolves... He preferred to play with them a bit instead, even if he could have killed many wolves that he had drugged and harmed.

Finally, it seemed, that Atshen's attention was caught once again. His eyes shone curiously, and his tail swayed gently between his hindquarters as he began to fantasize about the possibilities once more. Honestly, such intentions were fueled by his interest, and in this conversation, it ebbed and flowed with the conversation. 

But, of course, with such dastardly plans came curiosity. "How do you trick them into eating it?" As far as Atshen knew, these plants had a particular smell, and it would be hard to trick even the dullest wolf into such a meal. His eyes cast downwards towards the frozen leaves and he pressed forward a step, his head canting to the side as he examined them. After some observation and very little brain activity in regards to what he saw, the brute turned his eyes back to the other wolf expectantly, his eyes reaching up to his fellow leader as he waited.

More questions came, abs Sheogorath did not mind answering them all. He smirked and then said, "You have to put the herbs in deep enough so that the smell of the meat is stronger." It was a precise sort of action, and he was not sure Atshen would excel at it, especially without hands on explanation. But perhaps, like Cicero had taken Kendra out to teach her one day, so Sheo could take Atshen some time, if he wished.

At this point in their conversation, Atshen felt as though he was almost to capacity in regards to new information. There was only so much that the simple-minded Silencer could retain and he felt as though he couldn't hold in another fact. Nodding to this last bit of information, the boy's eyes fell to the floor as he processed it all. A beat or so of silence passed as he attempted to tread above the facts for the sake of their learning. But, no, it did not seem if he could take it anymore. His eyes flashed up towards his fellow leader, and he dipped his head as his ears fell back momentarily as if showcasing if discomfort in how much information he was trying to retain. 

"Thank you," he offered quietly, his tail swaying in the rare gesture of politeness. Without another word, the two-tone male turned from his teacher as he slid back into the shadows of the forest, retaining all the precious knowledge he could as he slipped back into his reclusive state.