Redhawk Caldera woke up feeling like a new james dean.

Fennec didn't respond to his quiet utterance, though it was just another mark against him in a book that was, all of the sudden, teetering on the brink.  She didn't hear it as an acceptance from him, or any kind of apology.  What she read was that, now that he'd heard what he needed to hear, everything she'd said no longer mattered.  And it was a little bit of the confirmation she needed, honestly.  He wasn't sorry, didn't see what he'd done wrong, and had no intentions of accepting any amount of blame.

She had a decision to make here.  She could play along with his angle, respond and pretend like nothing was wrong.  They could go back to friends, easy as that, until one day he decided to disappear again.  Or she could tell him to get lost.

She was kind of sick of making excuses for him.

Well, you brought them.  So now you might as well leave.  She replied icily.  She didn't know if this was the death knell for them, but it felt... pretty telling that, in that moment, she didn't quite care if it was.  Maybe if he'd given her a glimpse, some inkling that he was sorry for what he'd done, that he understood her feelings mattered to.  But she'd gotten nothing, and as soon as all was well in Penn's world, hers had ceased to even exist to him.  We're done, Penn.  Get out.

To her credit, she kept it pretty steady when she stopped and turned to say this.  Internally, she felt suddenly like she was going to shake apart at the seams.  Externally?  Completely frigid, cold and unyielding as the frozen ground around them.