Blackfeather Woods Important meeting; do NOT miss

She had mulled over the information Xan had given her. It had been three weeks since then; her belly had grown and swollen, and she had long since moved her nest into the Glen. She was sitting near the pool now, shivering slightly as she dipped her paws in the cold water — Nemesis and Kove's children were rather messy — thinking it over and over and over. Should she ask him? Was this true, had something happened between Xan and Cicero, something like that? She paused for a moment, finalizing her decision before she called for @Cicero, summoning him to the Glen. They needed to talk.

There was an urgency behind the call that Cicero could not ignore. He headed to the glen, not sure what was wrong. Yet he knew that his sister was pregnant and that meant that there was good reason to head the urgency she shared now. He carried his narrow frame through the woods until he reached her, and the look upon her face was as urgent as the call itself. As he approached, Cicero glanced at her stomach — everything looked fine so far — and he asked, "Is anything wrong?", hoping that the reason for her call was not the loss of his nieces and/or nephews.

She laid on her side, waiting for him. She could already see where her nnipples were poking out, growing swollen, though they weren't hanging just yet. Her stomach roiled in protest of the little wolves inside of her, and it was all Potema could do to hold the tide of hormone-laced vomit as her brother arrived.

She pulled hersef upwards, nodding her head in greeting, though she was apprehensive about beginning the conversation, or accusation, whatever it was now. She was silent for a moment, her gaze off to the side before she met his dual-toned eyes: I know what you did to Xan,

She was laying down and ears were cupped forward in mild worry, until she unveiled the reason behind her call. His body language changed, muscles relaxing and ears splaying, his overall disposition more relaxed now that he knew nothing was physically wrong with his sister. Yet he had hoped she be spared the burden of this information, and he wondered how and when she had secured the information. It mattered little, though, as it did nothing to change the circumstances.

He had often thought of that day and the things he had needed to do. The ending was the only thing that was blurry to him. He only remembered losing control, ironically when he had been in complete control. That was how such things went.

After a thoughtful silence he said, no shame in his voice nor body language: "It was what needed to be done. He had... done things to me, once. It had to be paid for, to make sure he would not repeat what he had done." He did not divulge more for the time being. Cicero reasoned his sister likely wanted more intimate details, but he was not sure he was ready to give them. He had been ashamed when it had happened the first time, and even to this day he had never told anyone what the white wolf — what Alexander — had done to him that day.

He did not stammer nor hide what he had done, only pausing for a moment before confessing. She was dumbfounded, even more so than when Xan had told her. He so readily told her, without shame nor guilt. You raped him, She hissed, softly, more in disbelief than in malice towards him. What could anyone do to warrant that? Xan was not malicious in the slightest, nor was Cicero, at least not openly. What in Oblivion could he have done to make you... She did not want to repeat the name again, only staring at him with concern and fear in her eyes.

Cicero was not surprised by the energy behind her words. His ears folded back when she said it, because that part had been orchestrated not so much by him as by the beast. Because he had known that he had done enough to frighten Alexander by simply hurting him. And because the word struck a chord. Once, he had had a similar thing done to him. The beast had, perhaps, orchestrated that to an extent, but he would never forget the feeling of love turning into one of disgust as he realised what was going on.

Yet he had never told a soul of that day. It appeared Alexander was less tight-lipped. Cicero looked away after a lengthy pause and murmured, "What, indeed..." He left Potema to fill in the spaces. He was not going to say the word. Cicero lied about little to his sister's face, but the beast and the damage he and those who collaborated with him -- like Alexander -- was not a topic he wished to cut into.

She stared at him, quiet, gazing at his face and slowly realizing...No, She said firmly, Xan would not do that to you, The boy was too young for such things. He seemed barely aware of his sexuality until recently. Unless that was triggered by...no...this was not something Xan would do. But the fact that it happened to her brother as well...she bit her lip, conflicted by sadness and anger and confusion.

Potema virtually denied the possibility that his words were true, but Cicero understood why she would say such a thing. He grimaced and added: "One should think so." He had never thought Xan to be capable of such things, either; he had always been brash and arrogant, but no more than a rampant teen, as teens often were. To think he was capable of such heinous things... Cicero himself had not considered it either.

He wished he could tell her that he had not intended for the punishment to get so out of hand, but he found himself incapable. She may find out about Sheogorath, then; she may find out that Cicero was not as in control as he appeared most of the time. And he could not allow that to happen. He looked away and said, "It happened, and Cicero needed to make sure it would not happen again. Now, there is no way on but forward." There was little use dwindling in the past now. He had done what he must, and Sheogorath had done what he must. He had not intended to drive Xan away, but at least he was safe now from such actions.

She stared at her brother once more, still trying to comprehend his actions. She still could not wrap her head around it, not while seeing his calmness. No, Potema knew that she needed time. The witch rose without another word and turned away, walking off into the distance, her mind still muddled by the thought: My brother Cicero raped Xan.