In his world, his sanguine eyes, there is no such thing as a pack. He doesn't even know if he holds an unconditional loyalty to himself. Bakugou is alone. He watches and acts independently. His emotions are his and his alone. That part of him is the only thing that seems to be holding still, rooting and clinging to him. It is in his nature to be by himself, a lonesome wanderer, an observer. While there may be others who wish to be by his side, to try and protect him, he feels an overwhelming sense of disconnection. No matter the universe, it is all the same. Detachment descends over him like a looming predator - a prey mantis in wait, weapons hovering in anticipation. Nature is deathly quiet. She is afraid of breaking the isolation, too cowardly to act. Perhaps it may be considered a sin to disrupt the peace that leeches the heart, the deceiving calmness that envelops the young Quartermaster's body, a sweet strangulation of his neck. There is an ache that latches to him, a gentle but poisonous hum. Bakugou has taught himself all this time that he is alone, that he feels alone. While there may be those willing to extend their grasp, embody the very heart of salvation, his mind is closed. He sees no freedom in yearning for others. The idea reaps only the sensation of vulnerability.

He himself had once trusted another. Killed, removed, perished. That was where it had got him. He let his guard down around someone who had cared about. The worse thing about it was that it hadn't been his friend who had betrayed him. It was his own heart that let him die. He was retracted from that world, thrown into an abyss, left to free fall. Nothingness filled his empty soul. It probed his memories until it was bored, launching him back into a new body, ready to breathe again. After some time, Bakugou has wished that the memories would cease by dilapidation. It brings him comfort to think that maybe, just maybe, there will come to be a day where he won't even remember a time where he had been human. Then again, he is unsure if the thoughts frighten him. Bakugou bites his tongue, tasting the ashes of his body's flames before drawing his attention to the blurred figure at the border. Slowly but surely her form begins to sharpen - crystalline as the ragdoll approaches, whiskers twitching before he stops in front of her. He keeps his distance, quickly skimming over the wolf's appearance before asking: "What do you want here?"