Blackfeather Woods You were both born to be kings

She could not believe what she was hearing. All of them, how disrespectful they were toward their alpha. They were no better than loners like this. Hell, even demons had more respect for their leaders than this bunch of monkeys. She gritted her teeth, swallowing hateful comments she knew she could not escape for long. This pack, still mourning their deceased female alpha, like she was a God. Pff, yeah, right. If this Meldresi had truly been so special, she wouldn't have died in the first place. But who was she to talk wrongly about the dead? She had meant something, perhaps too much, to the Dark Brotherhood, that was now slowly falling apart.

She ignored Damien all together, for she couldn't judge their past, but about what Potema said she could argue. Stolen? Did she really think this was only Burke's wrongdoings? Bunch of imbeciles, that's what they were. Moonlit Hills will manage without me... She rumbled from inside her den. And if not, so be it. They were not there for me, why should I be there for them? She argued bitterly, the heat of anger and hate consuming her. Perhaps Moonlit Hills was more organized than this pack.

She did not care for all the insults, only stored them in her mind. A whore, a slut, the one who had driven their alpha into doing the wrong, what did a title make one? She was Malice Lanius, and as long as she did not forget, the world wouldn't either. Nemesis was a bitch, and the rest of them were disrespectful fools that could not see how much Burke had given up for them. No wonder he came to her, none of these wolves were going to help him with his emotions! Though she was genuinely worried about Cicero's well-being, if only because he was perhaps kinder, or because she knew him better than the rest of them. 

She was just about to rage, when one of the pups sucked too hard on her already quite soar nipples, and she nosed the boy softly to loosen his grip. Before she could lift her head though, the devastated words of Burke filled the air. Wait, what? The stubborn, broken man was really stepping down? She growled, head protectively hovering above her children for if anyone was bold enough to even attempt hurting them. What was this going to mean for little Pyro and Vassago? What was to become of them as a family, the pack as a whole? What was to become of her? And Burke, what was he going to do? She frowned, tears starting to form in her almost dull eyes now. Nothing good ever happened to her or the ones around her. She had now ripped three packs apart, surely she was cursed. Was it her mother? She snickered insanely. Yeah, she was cursed. And call it selfish or not, at least -If Burke decided to stay- she'll have him all for herself.

Although there was really no other option for Burke, Damien felt a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. He feared that if Burke decided so, he would have to end him in order for the pack to survive, and that was the last thing the dark prince wanted to do. Whether it was for Malice, the new pups or Kendra herself, Burke had made a good choice, and Damien would honor his word in letting him stay if that's what the male wanted.

Malice's words were ignored, as Damien believed that Moonlit Hills and their fate were of little interest for the pack at the moment. Their problems now were hunger and stability, and Damien believed that by dealing with either of those the other would be easier to handle. Now, holding the reins of the pack all that was left was finding enough food for all of them.

"Kove will keep an eye on you," Damien stated glancing at the older Inuit, feeling that he shared the idea that too many liberties on the former alpha and his consort could be dangerous for the new regime. "Malice is not allowed to leave this den until the bastards are old enough to feed on solids. You will tend to their needs, Burke. Make all of this worth something for your own good," he instructed, referring to the hope that the pups could at least be used towards the Brotherhood's goals at some point. That would be Burke's task from now on, as a kind of chance to prove his permanence in the pack was warranted, a hope that Damien had done the right thing by showing mercy to his father.

And with that it was over, there was nothing left to say. Kove and Burke had their orders and Malice had been dealt with. Now Damien's ruling began, and with it a lot of things to fix. He would talk to Nemesis later about plans of action to get food on them, but right now there was something important to do.

"Help me, sister." he asked Potema as he tried to lift Cicero up and take him back to his den. "We'll get through this, brother. I promise," he spoke, meaning he would not let him die of hunger, and that they would heal from all their losses. Damien looked back at Potema suggestively, insinuating that he could not keep Cicero alive alone, and that they would need to work together for the pack to thrive again. They needed each other most now.

It was done. Power shifted without blood, and Potema released her breath. That matter was dealt with now. She turned to her brother Cicero, who had slumped against a tree stump, too weak to stand on his own. The sight clutched her heart with sharp talons and Potema quickly moved to his side, quickly forgetting about Malice and Burke and the bastards. Politics was over; it was never her strong suit anyway. She spoke what she thought, without thinking about if it made sense or not. She could never dance with words very well; she had two left feet.

But she was a healer by trade. And this was within her realm. Potema urged Cicero to his feet, nudging the mixmatched skeleton to the nearest tunnel entrance. He was too frail to simply jump right back onto his feet with the next meal he had. Whatever he had done to himself before the famine was taking its toll on him now as well. He needed medical attention as much as he needed food. And Potema could provide at least one of those things.

Exit Potema?

It did not surprise Cicero much that no one paid much attention to him. Even Burke seemed only to half notice him. His words were addressed, but he was not even looked at; Cicero was not sure if it was out of guilt or anger. Cicero wished that he had been stronger; then he would have claimed what he believed was his place, alongside Damien. Yet he also knew that he would unlikely ever claim that place, for there would always be others that would use their brute force, their strength, to deter him from it. Cicero's eyes fell weakly upon Nemesis as he wondered what place she would claim. He thought her rightful place to be as Beta, but would that be enough for her now? Cicero did not trust her one bit, and he did not think that a rule for her alongside Damien was a good idea. Damien needed someone to hold him back when he was out of control; not someone who would only add extra fuel to the fire.

That was perhaps the biggest reason why Cicero thought it his place to stand alongside his brother. He or Potema, both of them heirs to the throne as much as Damien was. Voices of reason, necessary to stop Damien from simply destroying all around him.

Yet at this moment he was too weak to speak of it, not strong enough to claim a place beside Damien. He would likely never be, so it was up to Damien to realise what he needed. Yet that, too, would unlikely ever happen, so Cicero thought. As Potema and Damien helped to support Cicero back to Damien's den, Cicero leaned his head against Damien's neck and sighed softly. He could not help but feel fearful what this new era would bring, especially without a voice of reason at Blackfeather Woods' top. Burke was not the fearsome leader many thought him to be; he had been just, and without him, Cicero was fearful of the direction their pack would take. It was perhaps for that reason that he felt responsible to help Damien rule, but he was not so sure how strong his voice of reason would be if he did not stand there with Damien.

As he leaned into Damien as they moved, Cicero whispered in his brother's ear, "Damien knows who the one standing beside him should be." His tongue ran out to weakly run along the tips of Damien's ear, his tongue feeling dry and heavy. Then he exhaled, long and drawn out, and allowed his brother and sister to guide him somewhere safe, where he could rest and get to his strength.

my last post too