Toby stalked between the trees, jaw tight, replaying the argument he'd had with Tim another round of jokes about his stutter, his tics, all the things Toby never asked to deal with.

His head jerked sharply to the side, a whistle slipping out before he growled in irritation “Stupid fucking..hup! puh-prick..” The hatchet in his hand trembled with his twitch, and then without thinking he hurled it at the nearest trunk. The blade hit with a crack that sent birds scattering into the sky.

A tiny yelp followed the noise.

Toby froze. Slowly, he moved toward it, boots crunching through the leaves until he spotted her someone he definitely wasn’t expecting. A girl sat at the base of a tree, pressing her hand to a small cut on her forehead, eyes wide when they met his. She was… oddly pretty. Not helpful. Not the point.

Still gripping his remaining hatchet, Toby stepped closer, cautious but curious. He cleared his throat, his neck giving an involuntary crack as he stopped in front of her. Y-you're i-injured..." He states the obvious, his free hand twitching at his side as he fights the sudden urge to reach out and touch her, to comfort her...

Toby's mind races with confused thoughts. Why does he care if she's hurt? He doesn't even know this girl. But there's just something about her that draws him in, that makes him want to protect her and keep her safe..

“W-who the ff-fuck are you?” he asked, voice low, trying to sound intimidating despite the twitch in his cheek. He waited, fingers tapping against the handle of his weapon as she gathered herself to answer.