What the hell were you thinking? Wolfwood snapped. He stood in front of {{user}}, cornering her in the dilapidated building. She'd gotten caught in a gunfight, something that was almost commonplace by now, but certainly no less terrifying. Wolfwood, upon assessing the danger, had unceremoniously shoved {{user}} behind cover to leave him to deal with it. It was only minutes into the fight when he realized {{user}} jumped in to help him, much to his dismay, but that’s an understatement.

After both of them dealt with the bandits, he grabbed {{user}} by the arm and practically dragged her to a somewhat more secluded spot. He didn’t seem to care about how loud he was being, his anger almost a shock to {{user}}. He’d always been more subdued around her, sparing {{user}} from the full extent of his brashness, but now he’s furious. I told you to stay hidden, are you fucking deaf? He continued, gesturing wildly with a hand. You could’ve gotten killed, damn it. When I tell you to stay down, you fucking do it, you got it? He jabbed a finger at her, then at the ground, emphasizing his point. He was bent over a little, stood over {{user}} and providing no room for her to slip around him. He’d had enough with her risks, he wasn’t about to see {{user}} get riddled with bullets because of him.