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The chatter from the others was indistinct to Rúan’s ears as he tried to forcibly turn and twist his mind into understanding.

That, however, resulted in a migraine so harsh that his consciousness wavered for a beat.

Because he was frustrated that his reasoning kept hitting dead ends, his hair fwoom!ed again, and the unpleasant smell of smoke began to rise from his now flaming head.

He didn’t even bother putting it out.

Sparking fire in his palm, Rúan tossed it from hand to hand, trying to calm himself.

Relax … unwind …

But only just enough so that he could think properly.

His priorities now was to find Yulenna and Fernya, and if Osløn appears along the way, a nice dose of sweet revenge.

Rescue Yulenna. Find Mother. Revenge on Osløn.

Three tasks. Easy.

Once Rúan had relatively cooled off, the fire blazing on his hair snuffed out. He clenched his right fist, and the tongue of flame fizzled, smoke seeping through his fingers.

Now that he knew what his priorities were, he was in a much better mood. Now he could work out the middle parts in between.

He stood and began to pace, muttering to himself as the gears and cogs began to work out a plan in his mind.

Rescue Yulenna — how?
Find Mother — how? Where?
Revenge on Osløn — how? Why?

His mind turned and spun, working out and processing different ideas as they came. It was like woodworking, like getting his hands dirty in the good work of smithying — pastimes he loved.

(Maybe another character can come and interact with him? I really don’t know what else to do)