Blackfeather Woods I wanna hate you

Kove could give only a stiff nod in return, the words being rolled over within his mind. The younger wished to keep hold of the feelings he had—for whoever they might be for—which the Inuit had expected would limit what other words he could share on the subject. Of course, it turned out that that wasn’t the case, which really shouldn’t have surprised him in even the slightest. At times, it often seemed Cicero possessed a wisdom that was far beyond his years, but such was a thing the elder often forgot. No matter, he could still appreciate his insight and what knowledge he was able to share, even if it might not be much for this particular subject.

For a moment longer, he thought the idea over, attempting to figure out if it was even worth it. Would his feelings cease to exist if he kept his distance? Would they grow to the point where they’d always remain if he saw her again? Nothing about the concept of “love” was concrete, which unsettled him greatly. It was common for those of his land to take a single mate until death forced them to part ways, and knowing that also had him thinking further. What if she held his heart still only because of that notion being present in his mind? He wanted to believe that might be the case, as it would make things much easier, but the truth of the matter was that he simply could not tell. He was incapable of figuring out the inner workings of his own heart, as ironic as that might be with all things considered. “And if I don’t know if the feelings will remain or not? Or if I’m not sure whether it would be a good thing to pursue her?” To others, it might seem strange, him taking the advice of someone younger than himself into careful consideration. For Kove, however, there was not an issue with it. He valued Cicero’s opinions, as well as all he might be able to provide information on.