Felltree Marsh vihainen

"We've been busy." It's a clipped response because Ceallach isn't exactly a warm man - he never had found that inherent sweetness like some did - and it only brings up other questions of what they were expected to do now. The woman before him is a stranger. His ears shift forward and he's not sure he should move forward to embrace or touch her. If it was Eirlys he already would have been there but unfortunately she wasn't. Ceallach didn't know how to comfort her and even if he had an inkling he didn't know if he would. 

"What happened?" Ceallach asked quickly, realizing that the only way he'd be capable of moving or doing was if he knew what had happened. "Who took you?" Because surely she hadn't just vanished after the turmoil their parents had gone through - that they had gone through - after losing Roarke. She wouldn't have been so foolhardy. He could feel the tension in waves through his spine and down his limbs, his neck and skull and even his tail almost pulsing with the feeling. It was like being wound tighter and tighter and Ceallach wondered how much longer before he snapped. 

Maybe he was his father's son after all.

That only made him feel more bitter and he wondered how he ended up the way he was. It was easy enough to see on paper. Siblings lost and dead (well, one then, as one was now standing before him again) and then his mother dying, losing his pack, his father leaving (but hadn't Arturo left long ago? The Witchdoctor hadn't cared for them) and their refuge dissolving. Eirlys nearly being taken from him. It was enough to make anyone bitter but Ceallach felt he was in a league all his own. There was too much in him. Too many walls in place that he was a labyrinth and he was consumed by it.