Blackfeather Woods stay high

Some things never changed. Sheogorath could not help but grin at the sight of his brother. The way he looked was like a child that had been caught stealing, but he knew that it was not the food he was eating that made Damien uncomfortable here. It was him, or rather, Cicero. Even now Sheogorath felt a strange tingle that lead from his stomach to the tips of his toes, a longing, but it was much different from Cicero's. For him it was a longing for something that he could not have, something forbidden, but also something that Cicero had not yet succeeded at, something he could take from the pathetic dolt he shared his body with.

He licked his lips and smirked as he said, "Some things never change, do they, brother." He moved in closer, but did not touch Damien, waiting a wolf's distance away, head and ears upright as he stared at his brother. "How have you been since the return?" Sheogorath had no idea that Damien'd lost a portion of his mind. The only thing that rang odd to him was that Damien hadn't yet reclaimed his throne, or tried to, since his return. He'd never been one to accept any less than royal treatment, so why now? But he did not know of his brother's amnesia and so he could not play into it to get what he wanted.