Wyoh clenched her jaw, her heart beginning to pound. The circumstances of her life had left her largely a passive creature of shallow emotional peaks and valleys, but this was enough. She had seen many of her own kind die off slowly, one by one, and this worthless leaf-gobbler wanted her to feel sad for him? His words twisted her hopelessness into a knot of ugly rage, her feathers standing on-end in the electricity of pure aggression. She turned to face him, a harsh, drawn-out squawk issuing from her beak.
"What were we supposed to do? Or do you think the sharptooth would have ignored another meal running straight into his mouth?" She slammed her foot down, splashing cold river water everywhere. "We don't even know you, but if there was something we could have done we would have done it! Do you think the swimmer would have stayed with us otherwise?" She snorted and arched her neck, preparing for one more volley. "He was so worried about you, and you haven't even checked to see if he's okay! Maybe you didn't deserve to be rescued!" She shouted the last part as loud as she could, her voice becoming raw and scratchy.
Her rage somewhat spent, she straightened up and took another look at her adversary. Buko's warning call prickled instinctively at the back of her mind. Her heart still pounded. She knew she should run. Though she had height on the threehorn, she was sure one solid blow from the dense thing could shatter bone, and she had never been in a real fight before. It would be suicide. The fastrunner took a few measured steps backward, keeping her eyes on the threehorn and maintaining the distance between them. If he betrayed any hint of a charge, she would flee.