Ankyra Sound he plays that choctaw bingo

i'm sequoia.

"tha's a tree, innit?" the cajun inquired with only the slightest canting of his skull. "well, i'd say tha's mighty fittin' wit dem legs ye got. ye'll pro'lly grow tall as one." and that didn't seem as though it were too far-fetched. he'd seen much smaller pups grow into behemoths before. she had the stretch, it seemed, and he was pleased that he'd found someone who was willing to put up with his rambling. when the young girl inquired about his name, the brute made a thoughtful face before offering his most charming of smiles. 

names were a matter of pride, of course. he carried his like a badge from the war. making himself into a beast of ego, the cajun offered his own calling, "name's buckshot, but a sweet tang like you can call me buck." it was only then that he had enough self-awareness to realize that there weren't many wolves he could scent nearby. seqoia seemed awful young to be out and about by herself, not that it was any of his business. "d'you live here, cher?"