Clemente
Clemente is kind of a stubborn bastard. And yes he's allowed to call himself that since his folks never tied the knot. But listen that isn't what's important here. What's important is that trees are tough fuckers, and they don't like giving up their wood all that much to tenacious young boys. Which has led to this: the war of the century. Clemente versus Cedar. Or something. He's not sure what trees are what really.
Anyway, back to the battle. He has a tiny hatchet that he'd lifted from the back of the house Rexanna lets him stay in. But he's not entirely, precisely, exactly sure how to use it. Too used to swinging offensively, unsure how to cut bark from a tree or limbs from a young sprout. He just wants to continue his carving, and these selfish fuckers won't give up their flesh.
Ew okay bad analogy. Clem goes back to hacking aimlessly at the poor tree, lip jutting out in a pout as he concentrates, grateful he can't sweat anymore. That would've just been the cherry on top.
