Bramblepoint born and bred and forged from flames

Tit didn't want to get eaten. More importantly, he didn't want word of his cowardice to spread outside of the caldera; he would have to be strong, noble, in-your-face, and the best freakin' warrior he could be! Except that the dude caught sight of him and blatantly zapped all of Titmouse's thoughts from his head. He didn't want to eat him? On one hand Titmouse was super happy (because obviously not a bear was also not hungry), but on the other... How was he supposed to be big and strong and scary if nobody would fight him?

The next best option presented itself as he slunk from his hiding place, stiff-legged and determined. Good! He shouted despite not really needing to (probably just to stop the wavering of his own voice, the dweeb), I thought you were a bear, he admitted without remorse, and I was waiting to ambush you if you were. But I see you're just... Y'know, not one, so... I guess I'll just get out of here.

He began to stride around the bramble bushes, partially towards the silver creature but mostly back the way he'd initially arrived, and then with a machiavellian flourish he proclaimed: You foiled my plans! I am the great Screech Redhawk, Bear-Flayer of the wilds! I think as compensation you should find me a new target. There was zero chance this guy would pull a bear out of thin air, so Tit just left it at that, hoping he had mentally praticed that introduction enough to be an awe-inspiring performance (the truth: it wasn't).