Ouroboros Spine yn rhedeg mewn cylchoedd

To his surprise, she leaves personal questions aside, for now, commenting on the state of the valley. Perhaps the encounter with Minori has soured him too much; he glances over at her, brow quirking before his face relaxes into something impassive and neutral. He gives a brusque nod, looking down, gaze floating over the water.

"Devastating," he comments softly. "Such a beautiful valley once, one could imagine, and now. . .it is lost. A fire would have been kinder. Water. . ." Llewellyn looks at her, thinking of Colwyn again. "Men are so afraid of fire. They tell stories of its rage. But water is more powerful, more destructive. It is a beast, disguised as a child. Beautiful on the surface, destroying everything in its path."

He is just beginning to warm up to the woman when she drops a question, and he groans, the sound caught in his throat. At least it is not as invasive as anything the princess threw at him, but it still rubs him the wrong way, and he pauses a moment to compose himself before answering. "No choice of my own," Llewellyn mutters, face cast in sudden shadow. It is not a story he will tell her, even if she begs to hear it.