The moment she takes off running, he's right behind her, much more fleet-footed than one would think someone his size, wearing so much, would be. Granted, he's still not as quick as she is, but he never loses sight of her, either. Even in the forest, when she might think she'd lost him, he walks into her view as she's consuming the deer.

He goes very still, his eyes glittering darkly. Never one to hide his emotions, he nonetheless tries to conceal the nausea that washes over him at the sight of blood on the dress that she's wearing--red on blue, tattered, ruined--'This is all that is left'--a scrap of lace--his gaze superfocusses on it for an instant before he shakes his head. It hits him that he's made a grave error, that he's overestimated his own stability. But he can't back down, now.

When she speaks, he has to take a calming breath before he can answer. "That is precisely what I wish to know."