He pulled away and breathed easier for it. He was making her thoughts and control slip from her and she hated it. Anger. Anger was an easy mask to wear. Apathy another. A mask. That was all. Red as her face might have been she put on straight face. Nails dug into the bark of the tree. It hurt a bit. It felt good to tear into something.

"So be it." Pulling from the tree she let bark tear in her hand. Walk away, hold onto some shred of dignity. Alas, she wasn't sure she had any left.