The truth of the matter is that the anger is always brimming just beneath the surface, ready to burst free, and thanks to years of meditation and acknowledgment he's been able to fully understand that. He hasn't experienced this kind of helplessness in a long time, and it's taking every ounce of strength he has in him not to let the panic in too. One hand becomes a fist at his side, the other at his chest, and he sways only slightly before his knees buckle and he staggers against the wall. The whole hut feels like it shudders with the impact and the door opens without anyone holding onto it.

"Wanda," he grits out, shaking his head. "You need to get out of here."