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Fidgetting endlessly in his half of the makeshift bed, Chronicles growls and whimpers, rolling right and left. His tiny fingers press up against the thin sheets, tossing them off his jacketed body furiously, his feet completing the job at freeing him from the restricting bed. Huffing, he folds his arms across his chest, his black eyes staring straight up at the darkened ceiling.

Beside him, the fatigued Mythos murmurs softly in protest, barely audible against his brother's complaints. Pale eyes still closed, he feels around wearily for the edge of the blanket. Eventually finding it, he snuggles up in the sheets, digging his head further into the pillow to block out at least some of Crow's constant noises.

Crow tosses a scowl in his brother's direction before stretching out as far as he can. If he can't sleep, neither will Mythos. His left hand falls directly on the shoulder of the sleeping Thos, waiting smugly for his desired reaction. Thos opens an eye in the darkness, but quickly closes it, raising the sheets up to his chin. Chronicle's grin quickly flips into a scowl, withdrawing his arm angrily.

The buckle from the sleeve recoils and hits the sleepless Thule in the face. Howling sharply, he furiously snaps his fangs and chews rabidly on the buckle and fabric, gnawing it until he's satisfied that he got his revenge. He slides his now-slobbered-on arm back onto the sheets, huffing as he arches his back and flops back onto his pillow. The night makes him very restless, finding it much easier to sleep during the day when all of the annoying lights are out. He isn't even tired!

Sitting up with a frustrated grumble, Crow watches the double halo swiftly hover accordingly, raising up with a little wobble. Narrowing his eyes, he reaches out his tiny finger and swipes at them angrily. Those things are part of the problem! They make him have to sleep here, with -

His narrowed black eyes fall on the sleeping form of Mythos. He's no fun at all. All he does is sit there; he never does anything useful! If his wings didn't have shiny parts, he would probably rid of the useless blue and grey boy much faster. But now, sleep deprived and trembling with anger, Chronicles readies his legs and thrashes out, kicking clean into the exposed part between his brother's wings, a very delicate and easily damaged area.

Eyes snapping open, Mythos cries out from the abrupt, sharp pain he receives before tumbling forward. He doesn't manage to free his hands to soften his fall, hitting the hardwood floor with a squeaky thud. The sheets are tangled in a mess around his body and wings, his tail limp but free. In his back he can feel two sharp pains, his mind not comprehending what could have happened. One minute, he was dreaming of a nicer, lighter place, and the next.. He closes his eyes tightly, tears leaking out despite this, the blanket soaking up the salty, pained tears.

Chronicles hangs over the edge of the bed, a grumpy yet satisfied expression across his face. He swipes again triumphantly at the halos, which hang suspended between the two boys. Without much thought, he leaps off the bed, landing halfway on top of the already-injured Mythos, earning another pitiful squeak. This time, Thos scrambles against the sheets in protest, trying desperately to break free and to defend himself. This only poses challenge to Crow, who waits until his brother manages to get himself in a seated position before tackling his blanketed form. Biting furiously, Chronicles nips at his brother's ears and wings before giving a pleased howl, somersaulting off to the side.

Sliding out from the blanket, Mythos defeatedly rubs at his teary, bleary eyes. The blanket slides off his wing, some of his beautiful feathers showing signs of damage and dots of blood. He fumbles for his tail, pulling it around himself and hugging it preciously, clearly upset and confused.

Off to the side, Crow cocks his head to the side, his messy wings ruffling themselves. He watches curiously as his brother cries in pain, bewildered at the reaction. Why cry? He huffs aloud, folding his arms again. It was only play, and if he didn't like playing, then.. then.. then he's stupid!

It makes him uneasy all the same, and he frowns at this feeling. Crawling over to his brother, he reaches out a small finger to touch the tiny bite marks on Mythos' ear. Both boys flinch; Thos first, as the pain of the touch and the realization of his attacker coming back hits him, and Chronicles out of surprise and in defense, probably in case his brother turns out to be a fighter after all. Instead, Mythos just continues to shift away, whimpering softly to himself in his own self-pity.

Chronicles snorts, but it turns into a yawn. The activity drives out all excess energy from him, it seems, and now he'll actually succumb to sleep. Tugging roughly at the blankets, he forcefully throws it over Mythos, tucking him up messily in an attempt to copy how Pippin does it. Mythos' breathing pace quickens as Crow crawls up beside him, but slows accordingly after stifling a yawn. Crow closes his eyes, pressing up to his brother not in an affectionate way, but moreso for his own comfort and body warmth. Thos doesn't mind this; his tiny bite wounds throbbing aren't even enough to keep him from sleeping now.

And this is where they will be found in the morning, huddled together on the hardwood floor just beside their makeshift bed, leaving no one the wiser of the nightly activities.