Silverlight Terrace Surrender to your heart

He is beginning to regain some semblance of strength, both physical and mental. He is not the sturdy gilded oak of the past, but perhaps, with time, he will get there. For now, he focuses on building himself up again, brick by brick upon a castle ruin. He will learn and grow, learn and grow. And with the knowledge that Ceara is safe, he further heals.

The smell of her dashes these hopes away, like sun through mist. His lips curl upward immediately, his eyes blazing cold fire. Her. The hostage-taker, the Blackfeather bitch.

He cannot act alone. He retreats into the shelter of a nearby rock formation, the shadows falling across his pelt, and he watches her for several long moments. He cannot act alone. His body will not take it, and Hydra will be furious with him. As much as his blood boils and his body aches to take her down, he must hold himself in check.

Instead, Llewellyn thrusts up his head and calls for @Hydra, for @Revui and @Arcturus, and all else who wish to shed wicked blood this day.