Blackfeather Woods stay high

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The distance at which his brother settled felt strange. Their bodies did not touch, but still Damien could feel a longing in his skin for what he'd gotten used to before the mental damage. Sensory memory, like ghost limbs, that was how it felt: as though there was a part of him that could still feel his brother's touch even if he was a wolf's distance away.

But overall the feeling of being around Cicero was all but easy for Damien. He knew that he'd forgotten too much about them to act normally in his presence, and his attempts at keeping it casual did little to help him. He looked at him with the confidence he could staple together and nodded at his comment, as though he knew what he was talking about. He tried to go back to the remains of the leg in an attempt to divert some of the attention from him, but Cicero's voice called again, this time with a direct answer that Damien couldn't simply shrug off. I'm good... he managed to say while chewing a chunk of flesh, I've been taking care of Potema and the pups... he added to his response, but this time he did turn to look straight at his brother for once after swallowing. What about you...? he asked shyly, and a glint of his brother's eye caught all of Damien's senses hostage. Everything else was a blur, unimportant, and through his head flashed so many thoughts, so many emotions.

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