Redhawk Caldera Jet Song

"I AM being myself goddamnit!" He yelled straight back at her but their words blended together in a cacophony of angst. He inhaled through clenched teeth which he opnly opened enough so that he could bite down on his tongue when she began to- yet again- defend Penn. Apparently, Penn hadn't been expected to do anything for her- but how had he acheived that status? It just proved the point he'd made earlier- that she still gave him a pass even though he did absolutely nothing. 

He couldn't believe that she thought he hadn't listened to her- he opened his mouth questioningly, but was supplied an answer before he could do so, though none of it sat well with him. He fumed as she listed off item after item, and could feel the steam broiling up inside of him. How was it that she could be so particular about what she accepted in terms of an acceptable gift, one that actually made her happy? How was it that the gestures he had made ran parallel to what she seemed to want- but were not enough? And he felt the cruel injustice of being blamed for running off on her when in fact it wasn't what had happened at all, and he felt frustrated that she still didn't understand what had happened. 

To be fair- he hadn't asked, he hadn't explained, and she was right- he hadn't listened. Not to the things she didn't tell him, and it seemed that it was those things that mattered the most. 

She did not want to be left behind- she'd made that perfectly clear when she'd told him how upset she felt when everyone else, seemingly, had gone off on adventures without her. So she was right- he'd gone for the coast with Meerkat and hadn't invited her along. Bringing her something back hadn't been intended as an afterthought or an apology; in truth, he'd gone out hoping that he could find something to bring back, not realizing that the trip would have been her desired prize. That much made sense now. 

He was quiet for a few moments before he finally licked his lips and drew in a breath in an attempt to steady himself. His dull gaze was still sour, and his ears were still flattened; she would have been able to hear how much he struggled to compose himself in the tone of his voice, which was strained. He spoke more slowly than he might normally have, as though allowing too much air to slip past his lips might loosen another volley of shouts. 

"I imagine if I try to explain some things...It might just come off as excuses." There was a bit of spite to his tone, there; he hadn't really meant to accuse her of leaping to conclusions- but he was fairly certain she might not hear him out even if he did try to explain himself. "But will you at least let me try?" He asked, forcing calm into his voice.