Redhawk Caldera frostpunk

It irritated him, in turn, that she didn't see what he meant. He wasn't trying to be dramatic or bail or whatever. He just needed space, but it wasn't just that. She'd reminded him that he was totally fine, and there was no need for him to be here at all. It hurt to be called a name, despite the way they'd met in a swearing contest. This was different, somehow. Like she was telling him he was really a fuckwit, or something of the sort, anyway. Whatever that even meant.

For now Charles stayed his leave, though, though in part because a part deep in his heart feared that she would literally restrain him if he continued. It was a terrifying thought, and one that he wanted to stop from happening at all cost, so he stayed. There was something demure about his posture that Fennec, had she been able to see, might not recognise from their previous encounter, or his usual self.

I -- The word was snappy and annoyed, but it faded away as he felt his stomach clench together. After taking a quick breath Charles continued, his tone now more neutral with an edge of nervousness that she might not recognise from before, No, that's not why. I should go because you are right. I am not part of this pack, and I'm not wounded. And the last he wanted, just like last time they'd met, was talk about his run-in with the bear and -- he couldn't even bear to think of it. Maybe that's why he wanted to leave so badly. He wasn't ready for the next question.