Blackfeather Woods continuity

In the great span of time since their last conversation Kove had, unknowingly, missed the younger male’s presences. With each of Meldresi’s first litter, he had a connection, which varied from sibling to sibling. Damien was one of his greatest friends and, perhaps seemingly at times with the way they interacted, something similar to a son. Then there was Potema, who shared certain traits with her mother that the northern respected, letting it be known that he was there to assist whenever she might need it. But Cicero—Cicero was like neither of them. He’d always come off as wise beyond his years, making it easier for the Inuk to simply speak to him. Not about the pack or rituals or anything, really, but to have a simple, normal conversation. He appreciated him for that, even now, his presumed actions against his sister aside.

“Perhaps it’s for the best, that certain things not be forgotten or forgiven,” he commented. “Some things are worth neither.” Perhaps the comment was backhanded, though unintentionally. “What will you do when the war comes to take us?” he asked, curious. He’d never taken Cicero for much of a fighter, and he seemed even less likely to be one following the famine, but who could say for sure what he would do if his home came under attack.