Wheeling Gull Isle bismil

Permission granted for the small bit of power playing here

Komodo was astounded at the speed that things started, and the speed with which things ended. He rounded Coelacanth and ushered her away from the worst of the brawl, but not before a blow befell his momentary ward and rendered her wounded. There is red — from Aditya, from Seelie, and perhaps from Stockholm — and the scent of blood and fear permeate the ceasefire.

The man cried and wailed as the others bade him to leave, which stirred a primordial response within the angakkuq. He leapt forward, as would a grand lion leaping upon his prey, grasped the back of the madman’s withers, and pulled him with significant force to ground — hoping knocking the racking sobs right out of him. Aditya had not been doing anything, nor had committed more affronts to the woman and the lands he claimed to love, but Komodo felt it to be a message that bore repeating. 

“Git it together,” he ground out from between his gritted teeth, luxuriating in the way he could feel the hardness of the ground though there was a body between them, and almost surprisingly, in the way the blood pooled around the points where his incisors pierced the thick skin of the man’s shoulder.  “ 'n be betta.” the earthstalker grumbled and, with a final shove against the dirt, released the grip he had upon the broken man.  “An’ neva furget whut happened heer.” He kept a keen eye on the man, just to make sure that he would not dare rise and strike again, but Komodo noted the crowd that had gathered — including his feral love, with a glint in her eyes that also stirred something primordial in him — and felt comfortable turning his healing attention to the one who needed it most.

When he turned to find Seelie, broken and alone, he rushed closer and began an initial examination of the superficial wounds; upon a patient he hoped never to treat.