Falls of the Hinterlands let's go up in flames, pretty lady

Ah, so it was a personal quarrel. And with a personal quarrel came a personal story. He holds in a sigh, settling back on his haunches as she rambled on, trying to make sense of it all.

Llewellyn is smart when it comes to many things, but sex and romance are beyond him. He doesn't understand much of this, these games, these feelings. Blood and loyalty, he can comprehend. Allies and enemies, he knows. The nuances of love? Ceara might as well be speaking in a foreign tongue. His mouth twitches; he is uncomfortable here. He would have rather the woman just attacked her for no reason at all.

"Good," he responds to her final statement, something he can finally get behind. "That is good, especially considering how torn up you are." Llewellyn looks over the water, glancing up at the snow, then back to her. "So there is history behind this attack. This was not. . .Blackfeather up to their old tricks."