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Ugh, this whole thing was an absolute nightmare if he ever was witness to one. Not only did it seem like half his territory was trashed, but he actually ended up feeling bad for the one that caused all this mayhem to begin with. It was an entirely alien feeling, and one that Kenley insisted be pushed to the furthest recesses of his mind. After all, what use did anyone have for remorse, or pity, or any of that? Especially when the subject was nowhere to be found, and was unlikely to return at all. Even though she promised to help...

With a grumble, he occupied the space with a negative feeling much more familiar as he resituated himself against the trunk of a tree overlooking the carved forest landscape, seated atop a branch around the old plant's midsection. He rocked a little, off-balance from his recent growth. He hadn't gained much of a height advantage, but it still felt awkward to the boy. There was, at least, some solace in the fact that it meant that he was getting stronger, even if he was still merely in the 'cocoon' stage of the life cycle. Slow progress was still progress in any case, even if everything else seemed to be moving backward on that scale.

Kenley fidgeted with the silk wrappings on his left hand, but there wasn't much he could do about them; they were wrapped fairly tightly. With a sigh, blue eyes shifted back to the trail that had been cut through his forest a week or so prior. There was a possibility, slim though it might be... that he could still manage to move some of the fallen tree wreckage. Maybe some of the smaller, splintered logs. He wasn't going to deny being below-average in his ability to move larger objects, but considering most of the damage still split the pieces into sections at least twice his size, there was little more that he could try.

Growling to himself, he lowered his head into his hands and ruffled his noncompliant hair in aggravation. It felt like everything he had worked for was starting to unravel and he was not. Happy. At all.

While Kenley might have been currently enveloped in his crankiness, thoughts berating and turned inward, it only took a moment for him to realize that the soft sounds he was hearing were not borne merely of the wind. Hands still threaded through his tipped hair, the fingers curled, tightening the strands about them as he stiffened. He didn't move, attempting to decipher what it was he was hearing. It was much too quiet a rustling to be the onix from before, and upon hearing the displacement of some debris, knew it also wasn't the pawniard, so neither one of them had returned. There wasn't much favor placed in many he had met in the past, either, so this was a discouraging sign, no matter what angle he looked at it. His heart beat more fiercely with the acknowledged anxiety as he stood, upright on the branch and holding an intaken breath as he concluded, It had better not be a bird...

He made his way over to where the quiet sound was originating from, staying off the ground level as much as possible. It wasn't very far, but the erratic damage took care of a large portion of the upper branches in this particular area. The silcoon rounded the trunk of a tree slowly, spined ears tuned to the being that was... trying to pick up some of the debris? He frowned; no, that couldn't be right... maybe he was looking for something? Trying to steal something that was around here? Nobody was ever up to any good when they entered his part of the woods, that was an established fact. At least, it was an established opinion that Kenley took for fact. His eyes narrowed, but he ducked back a little, partially blocking himself from view behind the trunk of the tree he stood on before chancing any vocalization, "...What are you doing?" His words were sharp, warning: one wrong word and he'd have a dose of String Shot at the ready. At least he was still equipped with that much familiarity.

He had to hand it to the trespasser, at least he was observant enough to realize where Kenley was located, even if he probably couldn't see the pale teen under the cover of foliage at the angle he was at. Unfortunately, that didn't make the situation any less annoying for the territorial insect, wincing slightly as the dropped pile Carwyn had in his grasp clattered loudly to the floor. It hadn't caused any further damage, but Kenley couldn't help but think that it only made things worse, if only because the harsh, wooden sound agitated him.

Flustered, the silcoon aimed and fired a round of String Shot at the fallen twigs, but refused to step more fully into view from his watchtower -- a warning shot. "I'm not playing games here!" he growled. He wasn't quite sure why the newcomer's answer irritated him, but he was prone to lashing out without probable cause anyway. Kenley was the authority figure around here, and craved what he deemed as that 'proper respect.' Despite the hostility in his tone, the underlying confusion was evident, "Why go out of your way to do that, anyway? It's not your problem."

While a hair-trigger temperament and overblown ego seemed to be Kenley's specialty on any normal encounter, he seemed particularly abrasive today. Too many situations deemed negative by the teenager had happened in too short an interim without the proper time to adapt, and he wasn't about to allow anything further to happen without some opposing interference on his part. Carwyn's attempt to appear as non-threatening as possible helped to ease that invisible guard he put up, but he was always looking for a reason to raise it all the further once more, scanning for any odd hesitance, any reason at all.

However, Carwyn looked entirely harmless, from the way he held himself to the careful way he spoke. Kenley couldn't shake the thought that it was probably all an act, but tried relenting all the same. "Preferably," he jabbed pointedly to the drapion's first line of reasoning, "there wouldn't be anyone walking through here to trip. This isn't some hiking path." He was bristling about it, but while Carwyn's reasoning was sound, it seemed much too arbitrary. As he propped himself against the trunk of the upper part of the tree, he bit at the silky strings binding his other hand in unconscious, nervous habit; it just felt like much too... weird an answer.

Then again, if that was really all this guy was after, what did Kenley really have to complain about? Free manual labor! Just so long as he was vigilant enough with what was going on, how was this any different than when Frank tried to do the very same thing? Well, before she made matters worse, at least... With a snort, the silcoon eased up a little, turning a bit away, "Whatever floats your boat, I suppose. Better not be anything more than that, though." Adjusting himself, he moved to sit on the branch he was perched upon instead of standing, but he kept attention on the drapion, just in case.

Despite the pit of restless, hollow anger he found himself in, the confusion may have been starting to surpass Kenley's default demeanor. He'd have liked to be able to chase the drapion off, but it just didn't feel the same when Carwyn kept going out of his way to be polite and inoffensive as he possibly could. But why? Wasn't it common for pokémon to engage in an offense when they had such random encounters?

Playing that he was aloof on the whole matter when it was within his deemed territory, however, was difficult. It made him fidget a bit, biting at the silk around his fingers all the more. He didn't have anywhere else he needed to be at the moment, but he lost the opportunity to leave even if he wanted to by allowing this other guy to stick around. Who knew what he was going to be up to, even after he finished picking up all he was aiming to? What direction would he go, away or further in?

One of the strings snapped beneath his teeth. Kenley huffed and turned away, scanning the canopies for anything else that may drop in. The movement ceased as Carwyn's humming came to his ears; he was... enjoying that? He glanced back to Carwyn from his perch in the tree, scrutinizing with a silent glare. He let it continue for a bit before the silcoon cut in, "...Why do you even care? It's not like anyone comes through here." And really, that's how he planned to keep traffic: to a minimum.