[Sometimes, when his elder brother does these tricks for him, Dima indulges himself in kind and behaves like a brat in response. He could tip his head back if he wanted, coax the butterfly to land on his nose, or open his mouth and extend his tongue to make a perch for it there instead. He could flick it back between the crush of his teeth and shatter it in the power of his jaw. He could, if he wanted to, except that Yuri called him good boy when he came, and so now he's inclined to behave.

Sometimes, in his private thoughts, he wonders whether their father made a mistake when he gave them their guardians. El's bird of prey suits her perfectly, deadly hunter soaring above that she is. Khalid's deer reflects his own cunning; Dima of all people knows how such beasts are deadlier than they appear, and easily underestimated.

But Yuri should have been a lion, he thinks sometimes. Yuri is proud and strong and demanding of obeisance in presence alone, needing no one but collecting a following as he sees fit.

Perhaps Dima should've been the wolf. People assume the worst of wolves, think them crueler than they often are. People assume they're happy alone, and don't realize that they only thrive in packs.]

I always miss you. Every moment I am away, I miss you.

[He turns his head gratefully into the petting hand, nuzzling at the heel of Yuri's palm, a good affectionate beast.]

I made the wilds plentiful and available, this past harvest. My animals are fat and content. Claude's humans have food in surplus and wild game in abundance to supplement their stores while winter's chill holds.

[He looks up at Yuri, his eyes blue as a summer's sky.]

Few will die this winter, and fewer still on my account. Are you pleased with me?