Blackfeather Woods tell me what you want

backdated to before this, private for @Damien ; just wanted some filler for the time they spent together, hope you're up for it c:

Cicero had stuck mostly to Blackfeather Woods with Damien after the formation of their plan. Soon it would come into fruition, and it needed to: Baldur also needed to be safe, after all, and they could not forever keep a pup away from the rest of the world. Besides, at times Damien and Baldur both drove Cicero nearly over the edge. His brother was spending a lot of time complaining about Baldur, and he seemed impatient and bratty. Of course, Cicero knew these things of Damien, but being alone with him for an extended period of time in this particular situation made him see them tenfold stronger than normally.

After he had hunted, Cicero returned with a squirrel. It had been thin and would not give them much meat, but for now it would do. He chewed and regurgitated some of it for Baldur; the rest would be for Damien. Hopefully he would appreciate it, as the other work that Cicero did for Damien's revenge.

I haven't forgotten this! <3

Baldur was a bitch. He cried almost all day long, and it was drivind Damien insane. There were times when he just wished he could rip his head off and get rid of the pain in his ears, but the mere prescence of Cicero made him realize he could not kill the pup. They needed him.

Oh, where would Damien be if it wasn't for Cicero. How would things have turned out if he hadn't been there to back his revengeful brother up. There was a lot to be thankful of with Cicero, and Damien usually showed it, but the squirrel Cicero brought to share would not be enough even for the pup alone, and Damien had to resist eating the thing.

"Thanks, 'Cero, but let him have it... We need to hunt something bigger for ourselves." he woofed trying not to sound too cold. He nudged the remains of the squirrel with his nose back to Cicero; Damien would not chew the pup's food.

Cicero rolled his eyes when Damien said to let Baldur have the food. While Damien had been lucky to catch the fawn after the storm, they would not always be this lucky. Days passed by and soon their plan would reach culmination, when Blackfeather Woods' lands were a little less torn apart again. But for now, they had to get by on their own and make due with what they had. Two young wolves would not be able to hunt together successfully all the time and the risk factor was high if they did; if one of them got hurt, it could not only end poorly for them, but also for their plan if they'd be forced to seek help.

"Maybe if Damien ate something, he would not be so grumpy all the time," Cicero said, with a grin on his face. While Cicero thought Damien acting like a spoiled brat, it wasn't something that he hated enough to be haughty or derisive about (things that Cicero was rarely to start with). Damien would be Damien, and jokes were the best remedy against Cicero's occasional frustration on the matter. There was nothing he could do to change Damien, anyway; and if he could have, he would not have wanted to.

Cicero chewed up some of the remains for Baldur. He did not mind doing this, as it was a natural part of life. Cicero sometimes wondered if they truly needed Baldur alive, but then, he liked to think there was still an ounce of light in his soul. Somehow, preserving this child made him feel like he could retain that piece of light instead of turning fully towards the darkness, although he himself did not grasp why he had this strong desire not to turn into a dark soulless beast.

Baldur did not seem hungry anymore, which did not surprise Cicero. He was not that big just yet, just a small pup, so what he had already been fed was enough. Without a thought Cicero licked what Baldur would not take from the ground -- he was not going to let nutrition go to waste for this. "Hunting brings risk, so no food should be wasted," Cicero said as he looked at Damien, in case there would be any 'yuck's. Survival was still above anything else for Cicero. And two young wolves out alone with a pup, they needed their survival skills sharpened.

Deciding that it would be better to turn to lighter -- well, less irritating -- subjects, Cicero asked: "Does Damien want to tell Cicero what he will do to Grimnir once he is caught?" A smile found its way to Cicero's face as he looked upon his bloodthirsty brother and wondered if this would lighten Damien's mood. One could never quite tell when it came to Damien, as he was often unpredictable. But then, that was one of the things Cicero liked about his brother.

Damien was grumpy. Hell yeah he was. And the brat knew that his brother and sister though he was the most grumpy prick in the world, but he didn't care. He felt like he was the boss, even if Cicero though of himself as the mastermind of the plan. He was cunning too, and he was more than capable to scheme a plan just like Cicero. And he was concious that it was dangerous to go on a hunt with no more than two teens, but he felt more capable than any other. He had taken a fawn down on his own, hadn't he? And he was laready a warrior in training to be an assassin of the brotherhood, so he would be able to feed himself and his brother. He would not to settle for less than enough for both.

"That's the point. We need more food. Not squirrels. I appreciate the gesture, brother, but we need something bigger... And so does he..." he barked gesturing at Baldur. Damien did not 'yuck' when Cicero grabbed the remains of the squirrel, but he thought it was disgusting. It had been disgusting when Potema made him swallow the pulp wrapped on her saliva as well. Yuck...

But then, when Cicero asked the question that had been hovering around Damien's head for days, he dropped his previous thoughts of disgust and focused on Cicero's eyes for a moment. Damien could be considered a sadist by now even though he did not share that of him with the rest of the world. He feasted on the suffering of others, and although it didn't bring him joy or happiness, it was satisfying and invigorating. So what Cicero asked was an important question.

"I will make him confess." he said clearly, "Otherwise, all of this would be worth nothing..." he knew that Cicero was asking more of a "which finger will he lose first?" kind of question, but if he chose the right words he could get as much info as he wanted.

They would hunt, Cicero decided, but perhaps not right away. Not unless Damien insisted upon it, anyway. It worried Cicero often that his brother did not seem to see danger even if it were right in front of him. Perhaps this was part of the reason why Cicero felt the incessant need to protect Damien wherever he went; he was not only a little child in behaviour at times, but also in naivety, thinking himself to be some sort of superhero. No wolf was a superhero, and while Cicero had no intentions of getting hurt by prey -- or Grimnir -- himself, Cicero did understand his own limitations where Damien seemed blind to them. It charmed him, in some ways, but it was also madly dangerous, particularly when a wolf was like Damien; always looking for some sort of trouble.

Cicero wondered if Damien had what it took to make Grimnir confess. Truthfully, the youth wondered if any wolf had what it took to make Grimnir confess. Grimnir, to Cicero, seemed like a cold and calculated killer, but with a short temper and an air of unpredictability. He had to be calculated if he managed to get Potema alone and had managed to avoid anyone seeing him with her, including Potema herself. But you never knew when he would strike; Cicero had watched him at times, and that look in his eyes was disturbing. For that reason alone Grimnir was not a wolf that Cicero would miss at all when ripped from Blackfeather Woods and the surface of the earth.

After Damien's answer -- which was a lot less blood-splattered than Cicero had anticipated -- Cicero licked his lips (almost as though he could already taste the blood upon his lips), the grin still on his face, and said, "And how will Damien make him confess?" While Cicero had intended simply to lift Damien's spirits (and partially because he genuinely wondered, and wanted to know what to anticipate) this conversation had already turned into a game of words. Cicero loved riddles and games, and he savoured slowly unwinding the layers of the riddle called Damien.

Riddles. Maybe that was another thing Damien and Cicero had in common. The night boy, although his main asset was his physical strength, could enjoy the games of the mind as much. Which, in fact, could also be one thing Damien had in common with Grimnir.

He was calculating. And cold.

Damien, too licked his lips, thinking of the blood that would drip off his lips when he was over with the bastard who had savaged his sister. He would be unforgiving as he always was, and he would demostrate how much of a dark brother he could be.

"He will suffer." Damien stated with a growly voice. "I will give him no other option than to confess his crimes. He does not belong here, he's a savage. A crude and barbaric beast."

The question did, in fact, cheer Damien up a bit in a weird way. There were little time in life that Damien could say he felt happy, and this was something like it. Thinking of having the power to decide over a pair's life was a feeling Damien could still not describe, but it definitely pleased him.

The game of words slowly unwinded as Damien answered. Suffer. It was ironic to Cicero that Damien would say a savage beast like Grimnir did not belong in Blackfeather Woods. Cicero had always seen Blackfeather Woods as a place exactly for wolves like Grimnir. Dark, cold beasts with a thirst for blood. The thing where Grimnir had crossed the line was by hurting Potema. Cicero had always thought that his mother knew and allowed it, but now that Damien was talking about making him confess, it made Cicero realise that perhaps he and Damien were the only ones who saw the very obvious truth of the matter.

"He will suffer indeed." Cicero was not a bloodthirsty wolf per say, but he found himself caught up in the darkness of their to-be deed, and in the darkness of Damien's heart and soul. Perhaps it was the darkness in Cicero's own heart that fueled his present thirst for Grimnir's blood, or perhaps it was the desire to be closer to Damien. "How will Damien make him suffer? What parts will Grimnir lose first?" asked Cicero, mismatched eyes searching for Damien's as Cicero stepped closer to his brother, for the desire to be close to Damien was as strong as his thirst to taste Grimnir's blood dripping from his teeth.

Damien had spent many days thinking alone how he would make Grimnir suffer. He had gone over every possibility he had including, of course, dismemberment. The questions Cicero asked were accurate in that sense.

"It seems only fair to start with his eyes..." he said viciously, eyes glitning and his lips slowly forming a malicious smile. This was one topic that Damien enjoyed, and even if Cicero touched only to be closer to Damien, he enjoyed sharing it with his brother.

In spite of what Cicero might have thought of Blackfeather Woods, Damien didn't see the pack to be fit for savages like Grimnir. Their mother, Meldresi, was one of the most studied wolves probably everyone in the pack would ever get to meet, and civility was always a must. But that did not mean that she didn't have a certain darkness inside of her, and she would definitely not be afraid to kill. That was the kind of wolves Damien thought were fit to get in the Brotherhood, or even the pack. Wolves like himself, Cicero and Potema.

When Damien mentioned taking out Grimnir's eyes, Cicero could imagine every gory detail of it. Damien's teeth slicing through Grimnir's face like a knife through butter, Grimnir snarling madly with whatever capacity had left. They would cripply him enough so that he could not just walk even if he came to at some point, Cicero told himself. "An eye for an eye," he said with a broad grin on his face. Cicero was not entirely certain why, but he felt happy being here with Damien and sharing their devilish plan together.

Despite the danger of their plan, it made Cicero happy to do it with Damien, and share in this with him. At least he was doing something now, rather than lurking through the dark forest and exploring seemingly without a goal. They were mending a better Blackfeather Woods for the future. Perhaps he had been wrong about Grimnir's place in Blackfeather Woods; perhaps to make this pack the way he wanted to, more calculated and less anonimosity among each other, all he needed to do was take out the rotten apples himself. With Damien.

"It is good to be here with Damien," Cicero said, feeling exhilarated. More than he had in a long time; perhaps more than ever before. Cicero closed the gap between himself and Damien. He gently nuzzled the fur in Damien's neck before pulling back and saying, a devious and playful smile still on his face: "I love you, brother." Which was a special thing for him to say for multiple reasons; first and foremost because it was the first time in his life that Cicero had acknowledged himself to be an "I".

An eye for an eye.

That was the way to explain it. But perhaps Damien wouldn't be satisfied with only one eye. Perhaps Grimnir would have to lose both his eyes and a finger or two (or all) for it to feel like justice. An adult attacking a pup. How coward. Death to him was Damien's punishment of preference, but that would be in hands of a superior once they had his confession.

They were an A team, him and Cicero, and just like his brother, Damien wouldn't share this with anyone but him. Damien was a solitary boy, trusted in few if any, and Cicero was at the top of that list. He felt glad it was him the one he got lost with.

When his brother closed the gap between them to nuzzle his fur, Damien allowed it, and even returned the hug-like gesture. At first, Damien was surprised to hear Cicero's words, both because he'd akcnowledged himself as "I" and because it was not common to hear, not even from mother herself, but then his brother's smile warmed him up. "I love you too, brother." he said, true affection showing in his eyes.

"We will get that bastard..." he woofed, and with a wide yawn he curled himself next to Cicero for a good night of sleep. Tomorrow they would hunt, and soon their plan would be under way.

A shiver ran down Cicero's spine when his nose ran through Damien's fur, especially when his brother returned the gesture. As his brother looked him in the eye, affection showing in Damien's eyes -- something that did not often happen to his dark brother, whose eyes were usually filled with uncontaminated darkness -- Cicero's heart leaped into his throat, it felt, as he stared at his brother and their gazes interlocked for a moment.

That moment could have lasted a lifetime, if it were up to Cicero, but eventually it ended. Cicero did not respond to what Damien said, agreeing in silence. They would get Grimnir, soon.

Cicero lay down beside Damien, resting his nose gently upon his brother's neck. He did not fall asleep instantly, just laying there and enjoying their closeness a moment longer. Despite what they were about to do -- or perhaps partially because of it -- Cicero had not felt better in a long time. He closed his mismatched eyes and savoured the warmth between himself and his brother, love for his brother in every beat of his heart as he slowly drifted off to sleep.