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Lore took a seat at one of the couches, hoping to settle the twins down on them in case they wanted something to snack on. He really couldn't blame Storm for doing magic, after all he supposed these threads must have been an interesting sight.

"Storm... is that true?" he inquired.

Amara set the basket onto the table in the middle of the couches, then took a seat across from them, crossing her legs and watching them curiously. The poor boy looked as if he had just been insulted or something ... though really she had no idea what was going on.

"But I didn't do it in the house!" Storm protested, sticking his hands behind his back. "You said we couldn't do it in the house! I didn't do it in the house! I did it outside, where there was nobody and there was nothing to break!"

But the look on his face was turning quite guilty.

Storm lowered his eyes and shuffled his feet awkwardly on the couch cushion, his face turning a light tinge of red. He mumbled something completely inaudible, and his black wings drooped guiltily.

"He did," Starr supplied, looking off into the other direction innocently.

Storm fidgeted and tried to keep his hands behind his back, but the way Lore was holding him it didn't seem possible. Instead, he grabbed the bottom of his sweater with both fists and held it down so that it couldn't be pulled up to expose his stomach.

"Doesn't hurt," he muttered, his eyes still not meeting Lore's.

Starr fidgeted uncomfortably up on Lore's shoulder. "I wasn't there," she replied simply, quietly, though her tone was nearly as guilty as Storm's. "Mama was giving me a bath."

That didn't necessarily mean, however, that she hadn't known about it.

Storm squirmed and tried to keep his shirt down to hide the scratches that were on his belly. There weren't many and they weren't deep, they hadn't bled at all, but he knew he was going to get in trouble anyways. His hands weren't much better, but he could keep them hidden a bit more easily just by keeping his fists clamped around his shirt.

"Doesn't hurt," he repeated stubbornly, shaking his head.

Starr didn't say anything. She knew she should have said something about it, but Storm had told her not to.

Storm sniffled a bit, then burst into tears. He held his hands out to Lore, palm up, and showed him the long, thin scratches that crossed his palms, finally letting go of his shirt. His stomach didn't look any better: a crosshatch of scratches and scrapes.

But as he had said, they didn't hurt - they had barely broken the skin. He was crying, plain and simply, out of guilt.

At least it wasn't deep and really they would heal over quickly enough, but he would have liked to clean it out anyhow. One never knew after all, even if it did not bleed from the looks of it, there were no dry crusted blood of the sort. Lore picked Storm up once more and held him close.

"It looks like an animal got to you," he murmured softly, "How about we get that cleaned just in case hmm?"

He hoped Amara didn't mind if he asked for water and a cloth, and that, it was his way to show Storm he wasn't upset.