We're running 'round like we don't care

Damien managed to control himself, for now, but Cicero kept a close eye on his brother. Damien was not always reliable when it came to situations where his patience was stretched thin; before you knew it, Damien's teeth could be tearing apart the pup's face. His patience was stretched doubly because it was not only the pup's noisiness, but also the prolonged revenge upon Grimnir that was tugging at Damien's arm here.

But it would be worth it.

Cicero was not sure in which regard Damien asked if he was sure. If he was sure about going through with the plan -- but it seemed silly for Damien to ask such a thing, for he was very set in his opinion to do this, and therefore, so was Cicero -- or if he was sure about the tree. Why would he be unsure? It made perfect sense, the way everything had happened.

With a nod, Cicero explained: "It has to be something in the air. The trick is to get him there without taking in too much ourselves. If Cicero and Damien hold their breath, it will help, but it may only help for a little bit. We need a reason for Grimnir to --" Cicero frowned for a moment as something clicked in his mind, before a devious grin befell his face.

This would be perfect.

"Cicero has a plan. Cicero will tell Grimnir that Baldur fell down a crack in the tree. That Damien put him there. Damien will bring Baldur back to Lusa, or store him somewhere safe if this is not possible, soon after Cicero takes Grimnir along. Grimnir will go to the tree and become infected. Then all Cicero and Damien have to do is lure Grimnir back out of the clearing, or hold their breath for a moment while pulling him out if he is too far gone."

Cicero did not even consider that Damien might have input for the plan. It was perfect. Perhaps he had ideas about a smooth transitioning of the pup to Lusa, however, which still created a situation where Damien returned on time to help bring Grimnir someplace safe.