Fox's Glade [M] my end and my beginning

Fear lingered in the air, and it fed Sheogorath, made him feel more whole — more himself, and less Cicero. It made him long and lust for things that were beyond his grasp, for it seemed unlikely that Damien would ever give him what he lusted for (even though Sheogorath was painfully aware of Cicero's belief that it did not matter, of Cicero's foolish mannerisms that would cause him to follow Damien for the rest of his life, even if it meant his lusts would never be fulfilled). Perhaps if Sheogorath did not have a mission that he wished to complete, he would have made a point of seeking out Damien and forcing him into some sort of action, even if it was violent.

With dark thoughts clouding his mind, an eerie grin on his face, Sheogorath stumbled into a wolf lapping at the creek's water while he laid down. Sheogorath could not help but wonder if this was the wolf that caused him to feel as tense as he did — the wolf with the fear, with the feelings. The moon partially lit up Sheogorath's face and grin as he approached. "What are you doing out here, all alone?" he said with a playful tune to his voice, and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.