<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LJX8V3E.jpg)<div align="center"><strong><em>Gregor Donovan</em></strong></div></div>What could amber eyes do but bear witness to that which transpired before him? Breath came hard into lungs, that steady rise and fall of chest announcing the life that renewed itself with a vigor. Gregor remained silent, the set of lips a thin thing as he rolled one shoulder back, as if the motion might soothe the ache. The scent of blood was fresh to his nostrils still, the air tainted with it, his to bear as it was his own failure spilt out like seed upon the earth. Liadian leaned into Conri as she did and Conri's hand fell upon his shoulder as they set off in stride, the wolves beside them as wild as the one who palm rested upon broad flesh even now.<br/><br/>The Castle was something most intriguing and beautiful. There was no denying that, nor could or would he have known the manipulation of the space from where they had been to where they now arrived. It was within the break of trees that the amber eyes bore witness to the towering mountains that reached it seemed to God's realm and the bridge that would carry them across the moat. Indeed, there was an incline of head in gratitude for the warning before his booted feet found the stone to stride upon towards Conri, for the warning. Something about the water teeming below made one wonder what may well rest within to guard the thing who walked beside him now’s home.<br/><br/>Even in this, the man was careful. Blood spilt from his own wounds, the vines that bound biting into flesh, but it was he who unless pushed forward would allow Conri and Liadian to enter, mindful to not mar the woman's clothing by leaving his vitae upon the stone ground. Oh, the feeling received when one entered the castle reeked of magic and mystery, the same sensation one could receive from entering a well consecrated place that was not of one’s own validation or volition. Not his home, not his stone. But the way the door had opened, had there been a hint of a smile that played upon lips? Perhaps. Just as amber eyes seemed to note the state of stone, beautiful in its wild kissed state, that which had been reclaiming parts of what was.<br/><br/>Conri gave his words and the vines were released, that intake of a breath a sharper one, flesh allowed to be freed from the bite of thorns ached at the absence as the air assaulted them. Merely a shadow of discomfort, a flinch of the jaw and a clench of teeth before voice would rumble from throat.<strong>"As you wish."  </strong><br/><br/>But where the words to Conri's statement that more freedoms would come with behavior? Or to the fact that he was told to help himself? One had to wonder, as he turned his head to the feast. Gregor did not sit, nor would he take glass, not until Liadian had taken her place where ever it might be. A quiet motion of the larger man to find place at table where it seemed fitting, not to near, and yet not too far from the ones who now held his vow. Eyes searched along the feast, as if to contemplate who may have prepared such for them or to wonder if like legend and lore that which was eaten may well steal part of one's will to leave. Consideration given, as he leaned back within the chair selected and watched the two of them with a quiet regard.<br/>