The raccoon's bushy tail hung below him from his perch on the wooden banister. The girl watched him from inside the room.
When she finally walked up to him, she wasn't sure what she wanted to say.
"Are you upset?" She asked.
"Why did you keep going?" He shot back. "That time in the gorge when I told you what kind of people they were, why didn't you turn back?"
"I told you-"
"-so because you hated turning back? Was that it?"
"What are you trying to say?" She asked, bewildered.
The raccoon turned to face her. A variety of expressions crossed his face, too swiftly for her to identify.
He looked back to the expanse of treetops outside the balcony.
"I don't feel like talking to you," he said quietly. "Please leave me alone."