Pip didn't much like relying on other people either, though it wasn't so obvious. He was polite enough in gentle refusals that it probably didn't seem notable, which he preferred. If they believed he didn't need help rather than that he didn't want help, it helped clear a bit of that issue. As a child, he knew he would inevitably need assistance, but he'd taught himself plenty already, simply through reading whatever was available to him. He hadn't needed help for that, and he was thankful no one appeared to be treating him like he was incompetent or incapable of handling himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust other people, because he knew no one here wished him harm, but he recognized that becoming dependent was...debilitating, especially when the field he wanted to pursue did not leave much room for second-guessing or searching for everyone else's opinions before proceeding.

However, as aforementioned, he knew he'd need help eventually. Everyone did, and truth be told, he thought nothing degrading when he followed Loki's cries to find Feliks entangled in vines, merely that it would be prudent to free him as soon as possible. "Mr. Feliks! Don't worry, you'll be free soon." The young canine trotted forward, leaning up to try and inspect the thick tendrils. "How is your circulation? Are you feeling any numbness?" Pip nipped at one of the vines, careful. "Otherwise, where is it straining the most?"
[align=right][i]INFORMATION

High and low. Yeah, that'd be right. He too had his fair share of them, but it was likely because he was still an adolescent and hormonal kid. Although now sporting the age of twelve months, considered an adult in the terms of a feline, he was swarming with all kinds of emotions he didn't know how to interpret. Maybe he would be better off if he did what anyone else with some sense did: talk about it. But he feels like he's gone too far down the rabbit hole. Anything he says now in need of sentiment and sympathy would probably be brushed away. Sometimes there were grudges that would never leave, he's always understood that. Bakugou was never the type to receive redemption. The universe has deemed him to be unpleasant, unwanted, disliked. The only reason he stuck around, his only value, was what he could do and the fact that he was yet another extra walking around. The ragdoll bites the bottom of his lips, stifling the thoughts that were swimming so naturally in his mind. This was why he needed to reach the top, needed to prove himself as more than what destiny had given him. But now he isn't even sure what destiny has in store for him.

Something bad, maybe.

Usually, the Reaver was pretty good at looking where he was going. He had a good sense of direction because of all those years he spent being independent, letting himself learn and understand his surroundings quick enough for him to focus on adapting to his environment. He was so good at analysing anything but himself. As of late, he hasn't been looking where he was going at all. He's returned to walking aimlessly, letting his own walk calm himself down. The more he continues to expend his physical energy, take in the smell of unpolluted air, the more he will probably be able to forget the uncomfortable churn of emotions within him. Stupid, foolish Bakugou. He never knew what was good for him. If someone were to so much as ambush him, he would be vulnerable to their weaponised grasp. He was tuning everything out that chitters sounded like leaves, screams and panic sounded like the sea. Sounds just blurred and mesh, conjoining into one tone. White noise was filling his ear canals, only furthering the thoughts in his mind. What he thought was calmness was, in fact, a numbness - a detachment from the situation he didn't like to think about. He's caused too much trouble. He was an inconvenience.

It was during the time that he was walking that he stepped on something sharp, neurons immediately inviting pain towards his system that he jerked upwards, tail straightened. He curses at himself, looking at the spot he had been pierced and was now bleeding from. It wasn't bad enough to require the soothsayer's attention but it sure as hell stung, drawing his attention back to reality that he finally managed to hear the caws. This whole time his mind had been drowning out the sound, unaware that someone may have been in danger. He moves, limping a little at first because he didn't like the idea that his skin was open and he was stepping on twigs but soon the sensation of dirt on his wounds had left him. Moss began to form over it, a side-effect of his elementals keeping the small wound sealed. He could rush over properly without looking like an idiot, arriving at the scene to see Peppino already there. He blinks, quietly observing the mess that the griffon had found himself in. He was entangled in vines, tangled in a way that would have required conscious effort. He doubts the male would have chosen to sleep here, flicking an ear as he tries to understand the situation but Pip's voice was continuing to snag his attention.

That kid was something else. He knew his stuff well and Bakugou wasn't going to question the words that were leaving the child's mouth, instead choosing to focus on something else. "Do ya want me to burn the vines? It might burn you in the process though." For some reason he didn't think of his own earth elementals. It was a power he was only just learning and trying to master. He only knew how to use it with rocks and sand, not living vegetation just yet, so it didn't cross his mind. Fire had always been his default ability but since burning Masie, he realises he's more of a danger than he initially thought. He needs to be more cautious. [b]"How'd this even happen?"

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