Whitebark Stream i'm sayin' goodbye, mom

What.
He freezes in place, seeing red and black rather than muted gold for a few jolting moments. The flat response brings an unwanted flush of heat to his face and chest, draws him a few steps closer with an uncharacteristically recognizable expression. Attraction is clear in his gaze, but the rest conflicts; he's annoyed, and he doesn't want to be here, and he definitely doesn't want to feel this way. Who are you? He demands, voice sharp yet wavering, fur bristling in stark contrast to his relaxed posture. He has no idea what he wants from this guy anymore — Kratos, maybe, but that's not possible.