Redhawk Caldera don't stop until your heart goes numb.

Not speaking to Elwood was both made very easy and frustrating by the fact that she hadn't actually seen him around lately. You can't actually talk to someone who isn't there, and though Fin was as stubborn as they came, she did worry that her resolve might be too quick to melt if her friend gave her one of those goobery looks he often had on his face. But what was the point of not speaking to someone if they weren't even around to realize they weren't being spoken to?

It was an annoying game, but one she was determined to keep playing after the way he'd up and left her at their last encounter. And also the way he'd so non-chalantly dismissed the idea of him possibly falling in love with her, for she'd had plenty of time by then to think on it and get offended by the whole thing. Everyone fell in love with her. Well, love wasn't quite the right word (except in Finn's case...). Emphatuation was more accurate. She was fun, witty, tough and frickin' adorable--a prize every man at some point had wondered whether or not they could obtain (she's a little delusional).

So what the crap was Elwood's problem?

A sudden yelp echoed out from the mouth of the beta female's den between the evergreens. A minute or so later, the woman emerged with a grumpy look upon her face, her tongue dancing in her mouth as she worried over the now throbbing spot where she'd accidently sunk her teeth into it while gnawing on a stick. She loped steadily across the snowy landscape until the reached the stream that trickled along not far from her home, which she lowered her muzzle towards to take a long draught of water. She wished some of the frigid liquid around in her mouth to let it graze over the cut on her tongue, wincing and inwardly cursing Elwood for being such an aggravating butt that she lost focus and injured herself. Because it was totally his fault. The butt.