[ Later, Skye will appreciate Willow's presence, the impetus for her to set her anger aside and evacuate rather than continue driving stubbornly on like a ram that doesn't know any better. For now, she can hardly see past the haze of red to consider that she should walk away. It was a slip, a loss of carefully cultivated control that Skye fights to regain.

But now she has people pulling her in different directions—a lousy wisdom check has Skye scrutinizing Ward's offer for double meanings, as if he might be threatening to catch up with her at a worse time when it's not on her own terms later. But she still stops at the door by Willow and shakes her head. ]

I'm serious. It's fine. [ And she finally drums up a smile that's rather convincing in how it tries to be at tired ease, giving the impression that her frustration is nothing more than a result of getting her ass beat and the subsequent exhaustion (bluff 29). ] We were running drills, decided to spar, and I'm being a sore loser. I'll shower it off. [ She claps a hand on Willow's shoulder and, in a well-intentioned nudge, tries to guide her from the gym with her, one final dark look shot over her shoulder at Ward where he stands alone on the mats. ]