Redhawk Caldera woke up feeling like a new james dean.

God, you are such a dick.  She groaned, and it was her own face that ended up shoved in the snow as she gave a pretty impressive head-desk.  It was partially her frustration at him, but also partially because holy fuck she had to ride out this knock she'd taken.  She gritted her teeth.

All this time she'd been angry and, obviously, it really had meant nothing to him.  He could show up as casually as if it was another day and she was the freak who put all this god damn weight on it.  If he didn't care, neither should she, and in showing she did she had already lost.  He hadn't missed her, hadn't regretted leaving her, and had probably had no intentions of even sticking with her longer than he had.  Okay then.

She lifted her head, then pushed herself up to sitting.  Keep it.  You don't want any part of here, remember?  So you don't owe us shit.  She responded, getting to her paws and shifting her weight off of the right automatically.  Two could play at his game, and she didn't have to stick around here and let him have her time.