Bramblepoint hollywood forever cemetery sings

Cypress blew out a shaky breath that he didn’t realize he’d been holding, confusion stirring the molten gold of his eyes as he looked a question at Rian. He didn’t understand the torment in those glimmering jade depths and said the first thing that came to mind: “S’all right, Rian.” Closing his eyes, he butted his muzzle lightly against Rian’s in turn as the stocky O’Malley drew away, rumbling affectionately. “We’re brothers,” he said simply, looking up at Rannoch with pride, then returning his gaze to the sienna-and-sepia male to include him. He was proud of Rannoch for winning — but he was just as proud of Rian for trying. “Brothers get rough to figure things out sometimes.” That had certainly been the case with Cypress and Rannoch, and the raven didn’t have any lasting dissention or disgruntlement about it.

The mention of “dinner” snapped Cypress to attention as an a second rumble, this one gastrointestinal in nature, struck the air. “Let’s do it,” he agreed, shaking out his wild, unkempt fur and sidestepping deftly, making to shoulder-check Rannoch in a companionable way. He was mindful of his brother’s recent spar, though, and his movements were gentle and easy. Snaking his muzzle forward with deliberate slowness, he made to nose, then nibble, at Rian’s hip. “Guess you boys whipped up an appetite,” he quipped.