Ankyra Sound the thistle and the burr

a gauntlet of emotions ran across his face. first, confusion when Ingram’s condition grew inflamed and then slued out wildly of the breadth of expectation. in fact, he reacted with disdain at the suggestion he might be wistful for the comforts only a mother could provide. Lycaon wouldn’t have known anything about that, though, he had just assumed…

what came next was a look of surprise. revealed to him was that his brother was torn up over Chusi--and for what reason other then their abrupt estrangement. there it was, the indisputable root of his glumness. Lycaon became aware of a trembling on his blackened gums, but not in a manner summoned by empathy, oh no. he realized his lips were practically about to blurt “well what swell news!” when he accrued some last-minute wisdom from his conscience and concealed his snout behind his paw, thus concealing the unfurling of elation. after all, what a heinous brother he would be to emote such controversial sentiments...

well okay, he was, generally speaking, a heinous brother to begin with, but he sure didn’t want his only brother gleaning that notion. he didn’t have much in the way of kin; not enough to go alienating them willy-nilly in such ways, at any rate. plus, he loved the little cell of terrorists he called family, and he didn’t like seeing them hurt in any capacity.  he had the cognition to understand that his dear brother's heartbreak could not be leavened by humor.

”ohhh...” he said lamely as Ingram yowled with agony. "i'm sorry to hear that, dude." he added, ears forced limp with his expression straining to pattern itself upon pity protocol. a constipated grimace appeared, but it was an improvement upon the reflex to smile. 

to his luck, Ingram was busy burying his head in the sand like an ostrich and probably hadn’t detected the fluctuations in Lyc's colorful spectrum of emotion. the nigthshaded boy shrouded his face, deep in denial of his reality. meanwhile, Lycaon implored eye contact from the viridescent gaze that was being eclipsed by inky shanks, angling his head so he could peer through the spaces between Ingram’s toes. ”it’ll be okaaaay….” he said airily, trying to pry his brother’s paws gently apart to bring him out of self-imposed exile, coaxing him with a gentle: ”wanna tell me what happened, buddy?” .

god damn it. how could he tactfully confide that he thought his ex-girlfriend was a bowl of ass soup and that he was better off now that she’d snatched his spoon?