Blackfeather Woods and you've seen too much

Cicero did not expect the child to understand. Perhaps he never would. Cicero doubted that there was anyone who would understand if he were to tell them frankly, wolf to wolf. To be frank, even Cicero himself often did not understand why he did certain things or others. But such was part of life. Of late, another thing had been tacked onto his desire for pain — because it seemed that the intensity of the feelings kept Sheogorath at bay. His darkest secret, the only one about whom he had never told a soul (well, perhaps after his encounter with the white wolf he could add a second secret to the situation); and that was another reason why what he felt was unexplainable. But it helped, and it also helped his research to find more and better poisonous substances. And that helped the pack. Or that was how Cicero justified it to himself, anyway. But he had always been his own wolf, and although he knew that the pack might not agree with what he did would they know (usually on days like these he would simply hide away from the world until the pain passed eventually) Cicero would never change for their sake. This was as much a part of him as his love for Damien — that, too, was a thing that, once Damien accepted the inevitability of their love, Cicero would let no one come between. Not even his pack.

"Perhaps," Cicero answered mysteriously to Pietro's suggestion that someone could stop him. He grimaced at the stabbing pain in his gut while he continued to struggle towards the water. He would be fine, he had been here before, and he would likely be here again... Pack intervention or not. Upon Pietro's question of the secret, Cicero canted his head and glanced sideways at his brother for a moment. He could not decipher how the question was intended, but eventually Cicero decided: "Everything is a secret, and yet nothing at all." He paused briefly before he added: "No. It is not a secret. Meldresi knew." Not that she approved, but it did not matter. If this was as little as it would take to have him removed from his pack and family, then so it would be. Cicero would not conform or bend to anyone's will when it came to his deepest being, so convinced was he that he was the only creature alive to know what was good for himself. Whilst he understood the point of view Pietro took, he did not fight it nor defend himself. There would be little point, and it would be hard to explain the disconnection from tangible things like life and death that he felt. If anything, the pain reminded him of life, death and danger, rather than divert him onto a path of more dangers.