Blackfeather Woods [m] The world laughed at any attempts we made to exist in it without pain

Never before had hurting another being given Cicero so much satisfaction. A cruel grin spread across his face, one that made him feel out of control — doing these uncharacteristic things, and knowing that Alexander had made him do them — and yet so very muchly in control — having the power over another being's life — at the same time. Questions were fired as teeth connected to Alexander's face, tearing whatever he could get a hold of. The taste of blood was satisfying and yet made him feel nothing at all as he looked down upon Alexander's bloodied face.

"Please? Is that the best you can do, Alexander?" He licked the blood from his lips as he added: "Is that what you made Sheogorath say?" he asked, not realising that the words made no sense to Alexander. Cicero didn't think that would've been what Sheogorath'd said. He'd probably played a part in this, co-conspiring with Alexander; but hurting a beast trapped within oneself was not as easy as hurting someone who was in front of you, at your mercy. He was losing control and yet regaining so much of it all at once as he snapped again. Teeth flashed for Alexander's left ear, aiming to tear it, damage it, or rip it off altogether should it be easy to do so.