Blackfeather Woods mama, we're all going to hell

He had a point. As soon as it was made Titmouse (impulsive, sensitive child that he still was) reacted instantly; he wanted to shout and scream like always, refute those claims and explain himself. His entire body pulsed with a wave of anger. The sudden sensation of his leg screaming at him in pain was what caught him, held him back. Titmouse was a stubborn guy and he wouldn't -- wouldn't -- let the pain show for his audience. There was no way he would confirm all that had been said. 

But he didn't have the constitution, not really. Titmouse gagged from the pain and dry-heaved, grit his teeth, and buckled low against the dirt. When his body calmed its response he lifted his head again but couldn't fathom words yet. Instead he leveled a glare at the white wolf - one that was filled with rage and hate. Maybe some of that emotion was reserved for Tit himself, but there was no way to know.

After a handful of moments he cooled off - perhaps inspired by the frigid ghost - and dryly crackled, They'll come for you. When they -- when they realize, they'll come and you'll die, and it won't matter how great either of you are. Sure his voice shook occasionally, and had the typical gravel he was known for - but his conviction was terrifying to behold.