Jade Fern Grove i'm gonna be gone for good again

He found himself looking towards the pink-eyed woman, her question left hanging in the air. He opened his mouth to answer but the voice that gave his name was not his own, luring his gaze back over to Ocra—why is she there? Her attempt at taking the attention off of herself and dragging the bystander—that’s all Witchbaby was to him in this situation—into their mess didn’t phase him. Never did he look away, eyes trained on her as his tornado of emotions settled down and favoured just one: anger. His lips twitched with the temptation of snarling at her, as it was the only way that he knew how to get what he was feeling out in the open for her to see—for her to see what she had done, to experience the consequences of her impulsiveness.

But nothing happened. He didn’t snarl or even growl at her, he just continued to stare.

“You wouldn’t have needed to look if you hadn’t run off,” he shot back. “What, did Sriracha get tired of you? Is that why you’re suddenly back—back here, of all places?” There came a reminder, from the depths of his mind, on how to deal with problems. He wanted to rush forward, to make her regret having ever ended their friendship with her abandonment, but he couldn’t. Stuck where he stood, he couldn’t lash out in any way aside from verbally, his body wouldn’t let him.