Blackfeather Woods devoted to destruction

A lot of things happened at once; as was to be expected when dealing with three pups, he supposed. The scrunched up one didn't appreciate the normal one standing atop him and snapped, while the girl with the deformed foot tried to mimic his word. "Yes, pretty is a difficult word," repeated Cicero. A word he rarely used, for beauty was in the eye in the beholder, but he supposed it would not hurt to teach these children something beautiful amidst the dark, painful existence they were to have.

From the corner of his eyes Cicero watched the moment between the two brothers, where the normal child tried to appease his brother. He almost missed the pebble that the girl put in front of him, but caught her movement and looked to see her expectant gaze. Then he saw the pebble that hadn't been there before, and he assumed that she had put it there. "Thank you," said Cicero as he nosed the pebble. "Cicero has no gifts to return." His shoulders rolled in a shrug as he put his paw on the pebble and batted it closer to himself.