Blackfeather Woods tell me what you want

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.