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The realization that mother would not be coming for them had been slow to set in, and had taken Brutus some time to even consider. Why wouldn't mommy want to come for them? Had mommy forgotten about them? Why was the father there and mommy wasn't? Little Brutus's tail was more often between his legs than it was wagging up a fitful storm of puppy excitement as it had been nearly since his birth. His ears drew back as the father spoke to him, and flattened. He knew he was In Trouble. He was often In Trouble, now. A little whine wanted to escape him, but he had learned that whining was a no no, and the father did not like it.

He had tried, desperately, to play with the father, but the father had not wanted to play. It seemed that everything that Brutus did was wrong and bad, and he did not want to be wrong and bad! But he wanted his mommy, and where was she? Mommy would play with him, sometimes. Mommy was usually tired but sometime, sometimes... Tasso used to play. Nobody played around the father, though. Trailing along behind Ralastor, he trotted along as quickly as his little puppy feet could carry him. When the father came to a halt, he stopped, too. But then he had to come.

So, with hesitating paws, he came.

Brutus's little tail wagged for a moment, and then stopped. The father wanted to play with him? His ears pricked forward, and then back, as if he couldn't quite make up his mind. And he couldn't. "Mommy said we're not s'pposed to play with teeth," he said doubtfully. He wanted to play. Boy oh boy did he want to play! Deep in his puppy heart, he knew that if his mommy had said something he was supposed to listen. That was why he'd stayed in the den, and why he'd tried to stay when the father had come to get them. But mommy wasn't here. Maybe it would be okay to play with their teeth if mommy didn't see it?

Hurting?

Hurt was a word that Brutus knew. It was a word that he'd learned the first time he'd done something, and somebody had yipped and mommy had said no. Uncertainty made the puppy hesitate, and he shifted his weight from forefoot to forefoot. In the adult's voice he heard something that mommy had used with them. Something that made him doubt whether he shouldn't listen to those orders. "'Kay, but mommy'll be mad."

Oh boy! They were going to play the teeth game. It was a very naughty game. Brutus was sure mommy wouldn't have liked it at all. But mommy wasn't here, and the father finally wanted to play with him. So, when the father bared his teeth, Brutus attacked him with all of the fury of a small, playful puppy. This was very exciting! Oh he and Tasso had played monster before. Were they playing monster? Brutus wanted to be the monster this time! "Rrrrrr," he said as he pranced about, nipping here and there, trying to bite like he'd been told.

When he had commenced his attack, he wagged his little tail, and licked the father. "Did I do good? Did I did I?" He had been trying very hard! They were playing a fun game, even though it was a game he had never played before. Lots of people played games he didn't know, he felt sure. There was no fear, because he had not yet been taught that he was supposed to fear things that were shaped like wolves-- and now that he was sure that Ralastor was not a monster, any lingering distrust had essentially vanished.

For the first time in his short life, someone had very intentionally hurt Brutus. Shock hit the puppy in a storm of confusion and distress, and, for the first time, his faith and his trust in the overall goodness and fairness of life was shaken. His trust was shaken. He made a little, pained sound, and drew back when those jaws released him, injured innocence showing clearly in his young eyes. The father had hurt him... and if he didn't hurt the father, the father would hurt him again. Would hurt him worse. Suddenly, Brutus understood. He whined, unhappy with the idea of bringing hurt. Intentional hurt. Hurt that he meant.

It hadn't been an accident. Where was mommy to protect him? Where was mommy? Mommy! He missed his mommy, he wanted his mommy, but his mommy wasn't there. Tasso wasn't there. There had been a smile, he knew that meant he'd done well. But what had followed meant that he hadn't. In the end, he responded in the only way that he could. He attacked back, as fiercely as any small puppy could. His young jaws were not as strong as his father's, but he had one advantage; he was fast. Small, fast, but so terribly unschooled. He didn't know what he was doing, but when he bit Ralastor next, he bit as hard as he could, internally quailing away from what he was doing.

Unfortunately, Ralastor's ploy did not work out quite as he had intended. Brutus had been scared, and for the first time his trained response to fear (which was to flee) had been forced away from him. Which meant that his current response to being frightened and hurt was to keep attacking-- even though the father had sat back as if to say that they were done. Brutus wasn't done. He had to keep going and going until the father stopped finally. Maybe he could drive him away, so that he could play by himself. Brutus was playing more and more by himself as time went on. With a little, puppy growl he dove for the father's paws, clamping his teeth around one.

He didn't let go, no he didn't. And he wouldn't, 'cause if he stopped hurting the father, the father would hurt him. Brutus didn't want to be hurt. His growl was somewhat muffled by the grip his jaw had on Ralastor, but it could definitely be heard. It was nothing near as frightening as an adult's might have been-- if indeed it was frightening at all. Brutus didn't know. Brutus didn't care. Brutus was scared, and the father hadn't said that they were done "playing".

Little Brutus built a wall around the hurt that was growing inside. Inside of this wall, he placed his mother, and Tasso, and Nox. The father was outside of the wall. In the soft, secure place that had once housed much love, Brutus placed so many memories of his mother. Mommy wasn't going to come for them, was she? How come mommy wasn't coming? Did mommy think they didn't love her anymore? Did mommy not love Brutus anymore? Uncertainty filled the puppy to the brim, but in that secret little place, he built a house for his mother to live. He built it in his heart.

He didn't understand the laughter. His ears drooped when he heard it, and then came the snapping. And the biting. Brutus couldn't stop attacking, because if he stopped, if he stopped it would be worse. So he would have to attack until the hurting ended. The little puppy was hurting, stinging from the bites. But he bit back, and he bit hard, and he made little skirmishes against Ralastor, darting in quickly, and biting at places that might be sensitive, and then darting away. Again and again, and again. When would it stop?

He was only a puppy. His endurance was not unlimited. As the fighting wore on, Brutus grew more and more tired. The more tired he became, the more determined he was to end the fight. To end it so that he wouldn't be hurt real bad. He wanted to run away and never see the father again. He wanted, so badly, to hide behind his mother. But the litany of words went on, some of them telling him that he was fearful, some telling him that he needed to bite harder. He bit as hard as he could.

There was no holding back with the father. It made him sad. So very, very sad. He didn't like this game, and he didn't understand it, but he knew that if he didn't play it he would get hurt even worse. One day, Ralastor said, he would be prepared to fight for his life. Brutus didn't want to fight for his life. Brutus wanted to be loved. Most of all, above all else, Brutus wanted to be loved.

So he fought. And when his bites grew fiercer with the pain, and with his desperation, he wished only that the game could stop.