Moonstone Quarry good job, dagger

like a pallid rat, buffalo knew the quarry only for its glint of moonstones. their glow he coveted — it was the idea of them that drew the bloodstained wraith to its edge once more. the pale man chose careful steps along the stone ridge until he discovered the slope inward. 
a tuneless hum droned in buffalo's throat as he paused to drink in the sight of the half-buried stones, choosing already within his mind the ones that would be liberated from their earthen beds. but here a tight breath. the madman turned with an almost comical expression of surprise on his bloody countenance. two-toned eyes regarded the downed coyote-thing, and buffalo clucked his tongue with faux chastisement.
"now look what you gone and done, martha," he muttered, drawing closer beneath his conversational tone. "did you hit your head?"