Blackfeather Woods tell me what you want

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.