Redhawk Caldera woke up feeling like a new james dean.

"Is this news?" Penn asked rhetorically when she accused him of being a dick. A grin flashed across his muzzle that she couldn't see, settling there as he watched her smash her own face into the snow. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed riling her up.

His grin faltered as he watched her push to her haunches. She was in pain, and he wondered if perhaps she wasn't as healed as her attack had suggested. He watched her, frowning at her words. "Hey, just because I didn't want to be tied down to the pack doesn't mean I don't care," he retorted, thinking to himself how so not true that would've been a few months ago. And honestly, it still wasn't entirely true. He didn't give any fucks about most of the wolves here. Just her. But hell if he was going to let her know that. Not in so many words, at least. Maybe. He was not sticking to his guns very well.

"Look, what happened was some shit and it probably could've been handled better," Penn admitted with a softening voice, falling victim to the moment though still unwilling to fully take any blame, "Being there just sucked, alright? But I could've probably, y'know... been more patient... or whatever." He paused, frustrated at having to say these things, and so he angrily burst out with something else entirely instead, "Would you just take the damn plants? You clearly need them."