Re-l couldn't say what made her angriest. Was it that he had taken an unnecessary risk without any kind of plan for failure? Was it that he seemed to care so little about his own welfare? Was it that she hadn't been there to stop him? She had no idea, but it didn't lessen the burning pit of rage in her stomach. She could feel her hands tightening on his shirt, and she knew she was about to do something very stupid.

She let go of Gabriel and walked out of the caravan. The kitten clung to her shoulders, but she tugged it off and put it on the ground, where it meowed at her in confusion. There was a tree nearby, and Re-l concentrated on that. She let the anger seep through her veins, and then she slammed a series of kicks and punches into the tree. Bark flew everywhere, and when she was done there were several solid dents in the trunk, where the wood had splintered away. Re-l dropped down onto her haunches, breathing heavily.

The kitten, who had been watching from a distance, came over and nosed her hands. Her knuckles, which had scabs from her journey, were open and bleeding, and there were several splinters of wood in them. The kitten sniffed them and meowed, moving Re-l to scratch its head.

"Don't worry," she told it. "I'll be fine."