Blackfeather Woods Night of the Living Dead

As Damien joined by his side, Cicero reached out to nibble the side of his neck in affection for a brief moment. Long enough to feel a tingle in the pit of his stomach, but short enough so that Damien could feel it too without needing to be embarrassed, for Cicero did not think anyone would notice it exceptionally so. Potema was greeted with an appreciative chuff and more wolves streamed into the meeting, most of which Cicero knew, but some of which he did not.

The meeting was opened with Potema's sharing of news, it seemed. He had noticed, of course, and wondered to himself who the father was, if there was one, and what role he may play in their futures. Cicero had never wilted without a father, and so he did not expect his nieces and nephews to miss a father figure either. "Congratulations, sister," said Cicero and the briefest of grins passed his face to break his previously stoic façade to show his earnesty. This was what she wanted, and, perhaps, what they needed; to continue their mother's line.