Bearclaw Valley can't complain

He frowned, and stopped, and looked to her. The expression on his face was rigid as usual, but there was an exasperated, questioning sort of concern there too, as if he asked without asking, why would I do that?

She sent me away. As if that wasn't obvious. As if he would ignore her wishes now, when all he'd ever done was exactly what she'd asked of him. He began to march again, this time he would not turn around, but his voice carried—Next time she needs a cuck for the season, she can ask the healer.

With that he'd depart, because there was nothing for him here.