Bitterroot Valley shaken not stirred

Besides the anger, he was overwhelmed by a torrent of humiliation, pain... an entire cocktail of unpleasant emotions. He could not explain how his confidence had shattered that day, nor could he explain how he much he enjoyed forcing himself on Cicero, to feel in control when he felt his life spiraling away from him. In fact, there was a lot he could not explain, a lot he did not understand and did not know. She asked if she could help, and he shook his head. He wouldn't know what to suggest.

"I don't think so," he murmured quietly, his legs still trembling. "I need to get out of here. I just... I need a new start." He was running away, not that he saw it like that. But he would be running away with Saena, when she was ready. If she was ever ready. Doubt was sewn into his mind, not because she had given him any reason, but because he felt everything else had. In this moment, while he was grounded by the company of a friend, his mind was clear enough to allow a lance of guilt. Could he just up and leave Lasher, who had done nothing to him?

The white wolf lifted his head. "Is he far? Luke II, I mean... maybe I could see him?"