Blackfeather Woods only a madman likes the pain

When he hit home, Cicero heard her yelp and it made him inclined to stop. He cared deeply for her, perhaps because in her inability to deal with her pain he saw reflected some of his own inability to deal with the pain that the white wolf had caused him. After the act he had manipulated and hurt himself and others, to gain back some control over his life, to feel something, anything, power, alive... Was this the same, in some way?

At first it looked like she were trying to free herself by pressing a paw to his shoulder, but he held on to her nape firmly, feeling blood run through his mouth as well as from his chest. The taste did little to make him feel good, for this was an individual he did not truly wish to hurt.

She grabbed the top of his leg, then, and he let go of her nape, realising it did him little good to fight her. This was not stopping the beast, for it was not any way to let go of anything; not unless he knew for sure if Kendra liked the pain as much as he. He allowed himself to roll onto his back and looked up at Kendra, searching her eyes with his mismatched ones, looking for any form of emotion that would tell him the answers to his questions.