Blackfeather Woods It's always been you

A sad smile befell his face as he watched Damien's lack of trust towards him. He wished there was something he could do to fix what Sheogorath had broken, but he knew he could not, for reasons very plain to see even for his brother (who wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed at all times). He was Sheogorath, he was the beast, and in that, he would never be able to escape what the beast had done. What, exactly, that was to Damien, Cicero did not know. He held no memory of it, as he held no memory of many of the things the beast did.

Ragged ears pressed forward as he found Damien and tossed the food towards him. "No," he answered in reply to his first question, words blunt and harsh, voice void of any emotion. His face was blank, as it always was — when Sheogorath was not housing him — and he thought it strange and ironic in ways that Damien would mention him smiling. He had not smiled in a long time, except perhaps when in pain. Even less so these days. Even less so after what he'd done to his sister. After the beast...

"You should not trust Cicero," he answered plainly, for once feeling like their roles were turned and it was Damien asking the riddle-filled questions and he trying to wrestle control back. "For even Cicero does not know when the beast Sheogorath may surface again. Oh, brother... What have I —" He stopped in his tracks, eyes widening briefly as fear grasped at his throat; "— has he done to you?" Ragged ears folded back and a glimmer of sadness was upon his face, though quickly replaced by a stoic defeat once more.