Moonspear i'm a georgia warhorse, and i ain't easy to kill

a prickle of defensive annoyance riled arcturus' hair, pressing it on black quill-like ends. he had seen the mark he had endowed revui with -- he hated it -- god, would it just heal already so they could forget?

he didn't even want to look at it, but as revui huffed and a cloudburst of mist expelled from his muzzle into the icy air, arcturus once more found his gaze drifting to the rough ridges unfairly inflicted to his brother's pewter muzzle. he had been the demon to cause that - he had lost control.

guilt ebbed in him, replaced by waves of indignation, and then waves of shame, over and over. arcturus felt pulled at the seams, but when his brother's words fell into that wintry air, he felt defeated all over again. no. he half-mumbled, half-growled -- if revui left, it would just make the chasm bigger, wouldn't it?