Neverwinter Forest don't you understand

set at the borders - anyone welcome!

After skirting around Neverwinter Forest, Cicero decided to go to its borders and see whether they knew anything of the Plateau wolves' whereabouts; or perhaps were said wolves. The outrider trotted along from Firefly Glen up towards Neverwinter Forest's borders at the break of dawn, which illuminated the green forest.

Taking a moment to enjoy the aesthetics, Cicero slunk nearer to the pack's borders. Along the frays of the forest, where trees first started to appear and the pack's scent was strong, Cicero halted. He held his small body low, tail hanging loosely and head lowered to show that he was no harm, while he trotted along the edge of the forest line, observing its contents.

There was a visitor upon their borders, and the Alpha normally would not have minded, given the wolf kept to the borders and not within his home. Yet as the breeze carried the scent to him, it stirred a dark sense of nostalgia within his heart, and his nostrils flared, quickly realizing it was a Blackfeather Woods wolf. Given the history between the packs, it was not likely he would forget them anytime soon – and likely vice versa, given the beating he had placed upon their Alpha Female.
 
Needless to say, Scimitar was none the wiser that Meldresi was now dead.
 
He came upon the wolf – a dark creature with an interested fur pattern. His gaze gleamed over the boy, and he offered a gentle nod – uncertain if the wolf yet recognized his scent from his days at Swiftcurrent Creek and Nova Peak. He did not recognize the youthful boy, but it meant nothing – instead, his form stilled after he closed the distance between the two, allowing a moment of silence to stretch between them before speaking. “What brings you to Neverwinter Forest pack borders?”

Cicero held no knowledge of the problems that had once reigned between Blackfeather Woods and some of the other packs. It had since some time been a peaceful pack — at least without any outright wars — and he did not know it had ever been different. When one of the Forest's wolves arrived upon the borders, Cicero lowered his head in respect for the man. He was not here to start any wars.

"Cicero did not remember a pack here last he visited this forest, so he decided to say hello." His mismatched eyes elevated to the man's level for a moment to look upon his face, hoping to catch traces of any feelings, anything that would tell him how the man felt about him. He hoped to receive an introduction, for he had already given one of his own — sort of.

The Blackfeather Woods wolf was respectful in stance – something that only spurred Scimitar’s suspicions further, though he made no move as such. The youthful wolf was quick to introduce himself – and with a nod of his muzzle, Scimitar chose to play along for now.. testing to see where the conversation would take them.
 
“We’ve newly claimed,” he offered, pausing, curious if offering his name was something that was wise in this scenario. He could not recall a time when they would have had his actual name.. their interactions with one another had been bloodshed alone, and he had not even known Meldresi’s name until the day he had reminded her that her pack’s actions had consequences.
 
“I’m Scimitar.” His own form shifted as he introduced himself – a part of him feeling a restlessness. He did not hide form anyone – if the Blackfeather Woods pack chose to pick up where they had left off, he would not shy from it.
 
He had proven again and again he was puppet to no one.

There was a restlessness in the man, Cicero sensed when he mentioned his name, though Cicero could not decipher why. He wondered if the man had anyone looking for him, unaware of any troubles between his pack and Blackfeather Woods in the past, and if he thought Cicero was a spy. He wondered idly if this was the previous Blacktail Deer Plateau wolf and if Burke was looking to settle a score with him, and that was why he wanted the information. But somehow it seemed doubtful; Burke hadn't disclosed his reasons which made it seem likely that his reasons were of the more private sort than a debt to settle. He would have warned Cicero had he sent him into an enemy's claws knowingly. "A pleasure," said Cicero, and he introduced himself — even though his name'd already been betrayed by his manner of speech — "Cicero, of Blackfeather Woods."

Yet something was off, and Cicero's penchant for gathering secrets did not allow him to rest. "Does Scimitar know where the wolves of Blacktail Deer Plateau have moved?" Cicero asked Scimitar, deciding to be frank about his business. "Cicero had personal relations with one of them, and it would be nice to reunite." Though Burke was the one who had asked for the information, a personal quest for friendship or love tended to work better when trying to garner information from another wolf, in Cicero's experience.

Blackfeather Woods. Of course his suspicions had risen, but there had been no confirmation until now. Still, he only shifted his weight then, keeping his façade smooth as he gave a light shake of his muzzle to the question. Blacktail Deer Plateau was a name familiar to him, but only through his sister and her time with them. He suspected the wolf Kaskara had greeted as Lasher was one of them – she had mentioned the Plateau and he had noted that they had moved.
 
And to where.
 
But he was certainly not sharing that information with a Blackfeather Woods wolf. “I’m sorry – I haven’t heard of that pack before.” He paused then, his eyes sweeping over the youth. “We’ve only just arrived – and from a place west of here.”

It turned out, so Cicero had experienced, that either wolves were very unknowing or very unwilling to give him information. Perhaps it would be better were he to mask his scent after these trips to the packs — but for now, he was content to be Cicero of Blackfeather Woods. There was another possibility, of course, but his meeting with Caiaphas had betrayed that his pack's name struck a chord even with wolves who seemed to like him as a person and with whom he shared a connection of sorts, a click. Cicero wondered then if anything had happened between Blackfeather Woods and Blacktail Deer Plateau and if Burke's request was really one of revenge. But if it had been, then surely he would have told Cicero so, would he not have?

There was always the possibility that this Scimitar didn't know a thing, of course. Cicero merely smiled, since he did not care whether the information was given; of course he wanted to prove his worth by returning to Burke with the information, but on the other hand he respected those who played the information game, whether it was willingly or unwillingly, just as he had accepted Caiaphas' flat-out 'no' to his request for information. Yet, he felt if he wanted answers it was time to play the game differently.

Not now, though. The wolf said that he was new and had not heard of the Plateau pack. "A shame," said Cicero. "What sort of pack is Neverwinter Forest? Is there any news that Cicero could bring to Blackfeather Woods? Cicero is, amongst other things, ambassador." And if he had it his way, not all packs in the area'd be at odds with them because of their explosive newly crowned Beta female or his equally, if not more, explosive brother Damien. He loved the wolves of Blackfeather Woods, but some of them made the job of ambassador as well as spy — if he'd not have been in Blackfeather, he would've possibly already gotten the info on the plateau from Caiaphas — rather difficult.

The youth was curious – Scimitar would have found it endearing, for a young outrider t be so, if he did not distrust the motives of the dark boy. He was, after all, a Blackfeather Woods wolf, and likely quite the spy.
 
“We are a familial pack,” he offered, his gaze drifting over the youth in mild contemplation. It would certainly be easy to destroy the boy now – hide the body, perhaps.. pluck the Blackfeather Woods wolves away one by one, knowing full well they had as morals of their own.
 
But his wars of the past belonged there – in the past, and Cicero was no more a product of his pack’s previous brutish past. Scimitar would not define him with that. “We wish to keep to ourselves and raise our family. It is all we have ever wanted.”

Though Cicero enjoyed his endeavours as spy, he also enjoyed being an ambassador. Though his peculiar way of being and of gathering information put some off, he knew, Cicero was also polite and enjoyed meeting new, interesting wolves. And leaders, in his experience, often were of the interesting like.

This wolf seemed to remain rather guarded, however, and Cicero decided easily that he would do no more than tell Burke about the encounter. It was not much else than what he had met at Silvertip, and Cicero could not help but wonder if their guardedness had a connection somehow; either the packs were close or at odds, Cicero guessed. "That is how Blackfeather Woods is, too," said Cicero with a smile on his face after Scimitar had described his pack; he did not know of the wars of the past, and thought his pack to be much like what Scimitar described. He thought fondly of Damien and the rest of his pack, family and non-family both.

"It was nice meeting Scimitar," Cicero offered and he dipped his head, making clear his intentions to leave but leaving a clear space of time for Scimitar to ask him questions if he had any for Cicero.

Was the youth talking about the same pack Scimitar knew of?
 
Perhaps leadership had now changed and the pack was now different? Yet Scimitar ave no way to his mild confusion – his mind whirled to process the information Cicero had supplied him, albeit as little as possible, but it was enough for him to seek council from Kaskara.. and perhaps even call together a pack meeting and warn his pack mates that it was entirely possible that danger was also to their east.
 
Or.. perhaps, the less they knew, the better, and it was best to let the past remain undredged.
 
“You as well, Cicero. Safe travels,” It was a kinder smile the man offered the youth – he could not tell if the boy was playing a role as actor or not, but with the assumption he was noting but genuine, Scimitar could only hope Blackfeather Woods had indeed seen a change in how they conducted themselves.

With a nod and a smile Cicero turned around and departed from Neverwinter Forest's borders. He did not think his encounter a big deal, unaware of the information that could be gathered from such a small encounter. He did think of his pack as one that stuck to themselves; he did not know it had been different in the past, although his travels so far had taught him a thing or two about his pack's blood-splattered past through Caiaphas.

While he set on the road once more to look for the fabled Plateau pack, Cicero thought about these things and he wondered if things had been so different before; and why. Perhaps because there had not been cause. Perhaps it would change soon... Or perhaps there would never be cause and Blackfeather Woods would remain the familial pack that stuck to themselves that Cicero knew his pack as.