Blackfeather Woods only a madman likes the pain

Her words struck a chord with him, particularly because he had wished for things to be different, for Burke and Malice to not be gone. It seemed he had found a kindred spirit in his like for Malice, that she did not wish it so, either. The fact that she wished for Malice to have become her mother was particularly heart-wrenching, perhaps the most of all the things she had said. He smiled sadly at her. He was not sure explaining would eleviate her grief; he knew the reasons behind all of this happening, but it did not make the pain easier to carry for him.

Damien was a selfish little shit, even if Cicero loved him; both his siblings were ambitious. They thought they deserved privileges because of their heritage. Burke had been in their way, and Malice had been the straw that broke the camel's back for them. An excuse, a scapegoat to get what they wanted, in a way, although Cicero thought that that was something subconscious, and not an opinion they shared on the surface. The worst part was that none of them knew or understood how their actions influenced others; either that, or they simply did not care.

"The deeper pain carves into us, the more love we can contain," he murmured, something he had once heard, something that he thought of when he saw Kendra. She was hurting now, but it would get better eventually, if she survived this phase of heartbreak and pain. If she would get through it, one day she would be able to appreciate the good things in her life doubly knowing how terrible things were once.

But now was far from that moment, and only time would tell if his philosophies would turn out true. He did not doubt his words did little for her now.

"Life is not often fair, is what Cicero had learned," he answered, more to the point this time. "One can dwindle and wallow in it, or one can pick up the pieces and try to figure out what is best for them with what pieces they are given, however misshapen those pieces may be." Kendra was still in the process of picking one of these options, he felt. "All of us are just here to try and survive. Had Cicero known, he would have stopped this, but it was too late when he found out. So now, all Cicero can do is pick up the pieces and move on." He looked at Kendra, his face stoic, though there was a sorrowful glint to his mismatched eyes. He showed no reaction to her tears otherwise, even though he felt torn apart inside. Yet somehow — perhaps because of his taste for the pain — his own pain never seemed to matter in equal matters to those of others and so it was easier to ignore, for it was beside the point here, today, now.