The Bracken Woods there is nothing fragile about you

her words, as far as bambam cares to perceive them, are meant to get a rise out of him; and perhaps in some fashion they do. just not in the way bambam assumes she wants them to. her words do not spark inspiration in him; only rebellion. she is no one to him. there is no connection and no want to connect to her. bambam has given her the benefit of doubt and she brings nothing to the table to entice him further than the cursory manner he's listened to her.

he has said all he has to say. his silence, continuing where it has left off, is trusted to speak volumes for him. not interested. he was plenty self-sufficient and did not feel the need to rush into any pack's arms nor any idealistic promise that could be as empty as the rotten, hollowed log he stood near.

she snaps back at him; and bambam's lip curls back from his teeth: tired of games. he will stand by his words, by his choice like an immovable mountain of solid rock. golden gaze hardens ...wanting to walk away but not wanting to turn his back to her lest she strike him like the viperess he assumes she is. he makes it clear though that their conversation was done and he is ready to move on.