Blackfeather Woods and you've seen too much

Pietro could just as easily revert to the playful boy that he was at heart, but one could hardly expect him to have any sort of spirit in the face of a sick wolf whose actions he could not presently fathom. He could only treat Cicero as normal as he acted— and this felt incredibly unnatural. He was also getting older, and concerning himself more and more with things beyond the scope of mere puppyhood. The stormy kid looked mildly confused when his own question was turned back to him, and he blinked shaded eyes, wondering at it. While he was not explicitly knowledgeable on the concept of blackmail, it felt exceedingly inborn to want to hold something over another. He liked the feeling of having a secret. He liked the implicated power behind it.

"I think if my father knew, he wouldn't like it. He might even think you shouldn't stay..." he cocked his head at is half-brother, imagining that his mother had been as strange as this, and that was why she had died. "You do want to stay here with us.. don't you Cicero?"