Malia had heard again and again how strong she was, how she could do this, and in truth she had expected more of the same. She had wanted to shout at those people, tell them that she didn't want to be strong; she wanted to be weak so she couldn't hurt anyone. Like she had her mother and her sister that horrible night of the accident.
But that wasn't what she got. At all. The shock of his words turned her eyes brown again, and although she could feel the coyote restless inside her, her shock had perhaps gained her a few minutes. He wasn't telling her he was strong. He didn't need to. They both already knew that. Instead he was making it all too clear what her failure would mean. He was throwing her past loneliness and potential loneliness in her face and she sucked in a breath of pain at what felt (in her overly emotional current state) like an utter betrayal.
She yanked her hands away from him, shaking a little; but she didn't know if it was from fear or anger. Isaac was her friend. She trusted him. She trusted hardly anyone but him and he'd stabbed a knife into her and twisted it by basically telling her that if she couldn't hold it together snd do perfectly the first time she tried this then she was going to lose him and everyone that mattered and he all alone again.
Somewhere inside of her, she understood his words. Her human logic even appreciated the blunt and fortright statement of fact. But the coyote growled; a sound that came past her lips. It was scared, and Angeles, and didn't have the complexity of understanding her human side did and felt like it had been both betrayed and threatened. Her fangs extended, as did her claws.
"I don't need friends! I don't need anyone!" She stood, giving him a bit of a push. "I definitely don't need you!"