Tancred stormed down the hall, hardly noticing where he was going. He battled with his emotions, trying not to cause a scene; it was difficult. He was mad at Olivia, but deeper down, he was mad at himself. He knew leaving was bad, but staying would be worse. Everyone was watching, and he didn't want everyone to know his business. His fuming temper had caused him to hurt Emma, and he knew he would not be able to sleep at all that night in consequence. He struck a wall he was passing out of anger, and then howled as he spotted the gashes it made on his knuckles. All the while Tancred struggled to overcome his emotion; despair, torment, guilt. Every time he thought he had them under control, little waves of it spilled over, sending the nearby objects in the corridor into chaos. He sighed, each breath consciously being thought about. Then he saw it.