Blackfeather Woods it's time

maybe @Nemesis ?

After his latest experiment turned out rather potent, Cicero had gathered some of the mushrooms, careful not to ingest any more of them, and stored some in his caches. Pietro had seemed outraged by his experiments, and Cicero wondered if Burke and Nemesis would head him were he to tell them of it. Cicero did not really think much of it, nor did he care for it. He had never been one to conform who and how he was to anyone else. Not even his pack. What he did was not always logical, but it always had reasons, and so there were also reasons behind ingesting plants he did not know yet. Information. Research. Science.

Pain.

After gathering a fourth of this particular mushroom, Cicero arrived at his most hidden poison cache. He pulled some of the leaves and dirt from the hollowed out tree and put the mushroom in. Cicero licked his lips and wondered if it would fill him with pain again just to taste the fragment of the mushroom. The lack of knowing was exhilarating somehow, and though he felt nothing yet Cicero started to dig the earth and leaves back on top of the hole in the the hollowed out tree, content with his gatherings so far.

oops i meant to reply to this a while ago, sorry about that!

The smell of bile and sickness was what caused her to investigate. She had grown accustomed to gradually getting used to the rotting scents that often floated around some of blackfeather less appealing territories, but this was like an acidic scent that made her nose wrinkle in disgust, but also an odd curiosity. When the source of the stench turned out to be emitting from Cicero, she became all the more suspicious. She glanced at the mound of fresh earth that had been dug up and replanted just moments ago, but did not question what he had stored underneath. Like Damien, too it seemed they all had a secret hideaway where they stored their secret stuff although her's had contained one very much alive, deranged mutt. Nevertheless, whatever it was, perhaps it was better that she didn't know. 

"Isn't it nice to feel the earth underneath one's feet after so long standing on ice?" She wondered aloud, the pads of her paws slightly sinking in the thin layer of mud that had accumulated over the last few days. It was an odd thing to say, but she knew that Cicero would not judge, although she silently contemplated exactly why she was thinking about mud instead of something relevant. No matter, the spring really was a change of scenery, and it had brung many more changes to their lives. To some, it was a bad thing but to her, it was evolution. To cast out the attributes that would not grant them victory and diminish those who leeched off their lands. In all fairness, they could not grow without being proven wrong, and she certainly knew better now to not set her standards too high for the newcomers that would eventually start to trickle in as the days grew longer once more. 

Cicero looked up when Nemesis approached, just as he finished covering the cache. He lifted a paw to piss on it, not to undermine Nemesis in any way, but because he wanted the pack to be warned about his poison caches. He would not want anyone to accidentally unearth something, especially not anything as potent as the mushrooms he'd just stored. He would check back in a few days to see how their quality was holding up or if he should dry them further first; if they would get more potent or less.

"The sun on one's back would be nice, too," said Cicero, glancing up at the dark canopy above them. "Cicero's fur is not made for winters." He was glad that warmer weather was arriving, for the constant cold wasn't pleasant. Particularly after Damien and he had parted ways for some time, which meant no longer sleeping beside his brother and enjoying his warmth every night.

Perhaps it would have been wiser to let this particular subject rest, but Cicero could not resist speaking of it. "Cicero heard Nemesis hasn't been making friends with the neighbours." There was no judgement in his tone, and a thin smile on his face to indicate he did not disapprove. He mostly wanted to learn more about both Malice and Nemesis, and hoped to be able to this way. It was strange to think that he knew more about Malice now than he did about Nemesis.

Malice, the name never ceased to exist but instead haunted her wherever she went. The situation was over and done with but yet she just wouldn't get out for real. Not making friends was an understatement at the most; she had successfully made enemies with the Alpha. "Not when that neighbor thinks herself some dark queen and disrespects the brotherhood," She pointed out, although she had not expected Cicero to question her. But it was not a judgement tone, but something of amusement which led her to believe that he did not disapprove of her actions. Had he met the crazy female too? It seemed unlikely that Malice would approach yet another Black Feather wolf, but maybe she still harboured the same insane mindset as she did before.  

But her own tone had a touch of grim to it, as there would have been no change in hell she ever would have liked the female. Not after her disgusting attitude and high-and-mighty persona. "But bygones, right?" A smirk played on her lips, as if it was completely the opposite of her true intentions. Afterall, she did not associate rules with others outside of the dark pack.

Her snootiness towards Malice amused Cicero, for the irony was laid out thickly over the whole situation. Nemesis herself sounded as though she may have had the same illusions. Perhaps she had more right, but then, she was Beta, and Malice was Alpha of her own pack. Cicero did not understand why they both wished to compete for a position of dark queen, even aside from the fact that there could be more than one, in his eyes. They were far enough apart. But for someone who had tried his entire life to be less dark and to fight the darkness that slumbered inside, Cicero felt odd watching a pissing contest to be acknowledged as darkest between Nemesis and Malice.

He wondered for her intentions with Malice; there was something insinuating about the way she spoke. With a smirk Cicero shared, "Malice was entertaining enough, as far as Cicero is concerned." He enjoyed spending time with her, and oddly he knew more about her already than he did about Nemesis. "Has Nemesis been well otherwise?" Cicero himself had not been all too present around the forest of late; he had spent some time with his siblings and others, but mostly Cicero had stuck to himself, wallowing in his shame and fear, feeling at ease within the lands and yet, ultimately, feeling the ticklish fancy to soon depart once more on his next mission.

He gestured towards the forest to offer a walk, and waited for her to join or deny his silent request. He hoped she would say yes, so that he could gather more plants meanwhile.

sorry for the wait!

Nemesis did not detest the girl Malice, nor deemed herself in many ways superior. But the girl had insulted her, the Brotherhood and it's very existence. That was not something she took lightly, nor seen herself a friend of someone with such a high and mighty attitude. She had treated the girl the way she would treat any unruly stranger, with hardly much respect. So no, she did not consider the girl entertaining, but rather a possible threat if she would to have a change of heart one day. One could never be too sure. 

She followed Cicero, but did not want to waste his time. Talking was not really her thing, especially with topics other than related to the pack. She liked Cicero, but she did not know him that well. And she could not underestimate him, and never would. She knew he had been traveling from the territory, for reason that were unknown to her but she did not ask. "I am good," Did he know she was mated? She would have guessed the word would have spreaded around by now. "Burke has expressed to me that you are very keen on joining the Brotherhood," She had after all voted on letting them in although it was a no-brainier. She wondered what specialty he was interested in, as she knew Damien wanted to be an Assassin. Though she knew they were very much different from each other, and could not expect them to have the same interests all the time.

Cicero was pleased that Malice fell in step with him and he continued along through the forest, searching for herbs that he could use in his experiments or herbs that he could use to refill his caches. An ear fell back when Nemesis spoke and he listened, thoughtful. He was not so eager, truthfully, for things came when they did — it was Damien who really wanted to join the Dark Brotherhood, more than anything, and Cicero was simply there to tag along.

"Of course," said Cicero, though his tone of voice indicated that he was not overly excited. "But it is not a thing that Cicero craves above all else, like Damien does." His brother was very intent on gaining his rank, while Cicero did not care much. He was a part of Blackfeather Woods and that was good enough for him. Sheogorath was another story altogether, but Cicero preferred to stay away from what Sheogorath would think as much as possible.

"Ah," he murmured when he found a herb he thought to recognise, but was not sure of. He picked it carefully between his teeth and craned his neck to put it on his back, so that he could bring it to his caches later.

She often wondered about Damien. She had not seen him in so long, and even though they had not been on the best of terms, she worried. But she wasn't overly concerned. If anything, Damien was adaptable and very much capable of taking care of herself. 

"And what do you want?" 

So, if it wasn't so much the Brotherhood he was interested in, what plans did the Gamma have? She knew that perhaps he would not always stay in the dark woods, maybe even venure on his own like she did. But watching him with the herbs, she wondered if he was interested in the medicl area too. They needed a healer again, and their last promising one had gone. Kendra wasn't interested in that, but of toxins, which quite concerned her. But she knew what she was doing, as did Cicero she was sure.

Once upon a time, Cicero had dabbled in healing herbs. Potema had proven much more interested in fixing things, however, and Cicero himself had ended up specialising in poisons. He had little interest to return to the art of fixing things, to the point that he would rather not share with others that he knew how to fix things. Breaking things was his forte, after all, and why would an artist continue to finger paint if they had found out that with a paintbrush, they could make true art? Cicero refused to finger paint unless one of his own was in immediate danger.

The question struck a chord, and Cicero halted for a moment. He had not expected the question, even though perhaps he should have, and ears folded back and forth in consideration for it, for he had never been one to answer on impulse.

Damien.

But she would unlikely understand what he meant by that. Yet it was true in so many ways. As long as Damien stayed true to these woods, so would Cicero. His loyalty to the Woods was great, for he had been born here and he did not have any motivation to leave any time soon, yet his loyalty to Damien was the only thing greater than that, the only thing that truly anchored him to this world, for his brother meant everything to him, and very little others meant anything to him.

"A good question," Cicero answered with a slick grin. "Serving Blackfeather Woods is of interest to Cicero, but stature within the Brotherhood mean little to him. He was born into the Brotherhood, in a sense, and he would do whatever Burke requests even without a title within the Brotherhood. Cicero has done much for Blackfeather Woods and for Burke." Cicero spied a piece of poison ivy as his words faded and a smile danced across his face as he murmured, "Ah." Then he started to search for other plants nearby with which he could carry the poison ivy, so that he would not get his mouth all mangled.

It made him realise how little he knew of Nemesis, truly. And, in light of her question, how very little she knew about him. Cicero looked at her again, laying the herb he'd found aside for the moment, while he decided to be truthful. It didn't matter, anyway. Anyone with a good eye already knew. For Nemesis to ask him such a question meant she perhaps lacked the eye, and in another situation perhaps Cicero would not have shared this with her for that reason, but for some reason he did now: "The answer to your question is Damien. He is Cicero's anchor, he is what Cicero craves above all else." It was the first time that he had spoken these words to anyone, and Cicero was not sure how she would respond, but he did not care if she knew. He did not care if anyone knew. He had never tried to hide his love for Damien and to answer such a direct question for his cravings with an answer not related to Damien felt like a betrayal to the depths of his love.