Moonstone Quarry good job, dagger

"mm, no, you're martha," buffalo tittered at martha's insistence she was someone called daggerjaw. cousin? his sharp gaze traveled along the detailing of the downed mutt's flanks and shoulders; buffalo's lips skinned back from his teeth in a horrible grin. "well, how 'bout that, martha. martha the halfbreed!" the madman hollered, prancing nearer until he could thrust his muzzle into her personal space.
"are you dead?" buffalo whispered in a waver, blinking rapidly as he drew away. byll. byll byll byll byll — she would know what to do. "hey, sis," the bedlamite muttered to no one in particular. "i think i killed martha."