Blackfeather Woods thinking out loud

Damien took a step backward, and Cicero halted, though mismatched eyes still sought out Damien's, gaze piercing as though he was looking straight into his brother's soul. Nobody had ever taught Cicero that it was wrong to love one's brother the fierce way that he did — Burke had only ever said some wolves might disapprove, but what did Cicero care for some wolves? — and he wished that Damien could let go on his own inhibitions the way Cicero had a long time ago. Hiding was for the weak, but then, maybe Damien was weaker than Cicero liked to admit.

A wicked smile fell across Cicero's face, playful at heart, as he kept his eyes focussed on his brother's and said: "What is this? The mighty Damien is fearful of coming closer to a scrawny mutt?" He lowered his front to the ground in a playful bow. "Afraid to lose a spar?" Cicero knew Damien was not, of course, but he knew that he could not trigger his brother to realise what was right through words. They would fall to deaf ears — perhaps more physical acts that would make Damien feel in his heart what was right would serve their purpose better.