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She wasn't satisfied with his return, but at least he hadn't told her to calm down. She knew now, at least, what kind of wolf he was. And it wasn't the kind of wolf she was compatible with. Far, far from it.

In some scenario, he might have been able to save face. Perhaps if he had countered with his own display of aggression. But she also didn't want somebody who would just shrug her off when she got angry. Wow, she really was picky, wasn't she? Sequoia was beginning to realize that even her "acceptable" list of qualities was going to be hard to meet.

Enjoy your stupid rotten life, she said, still seething.

She had no use for him, and she stormed off without another word. He had lost any chance of ever being anything to her, friend, lover, or otherwise. He could go die in a fire for all she cared.