The Floodlands Free and easy

Quixote was once again trying to hunt those stupid birds, and though he was barely making some progress, his lack of catching one was probably closer to being a metaphor for his life than a reliable food source.  One of these days he'd catch one and bring his prize back to Raven, but for now he'd rather just fail without an audience -- besides, the amusement of watching him be bad had long worn off and now it was just an exercise in futility.

Though Quixote had a rough idea what (might) have happened -- he wasn't sure Towhee was the greatest of unbiased witnesses in this case -- he definitely wanted to hear the other side of the story because he was sure that Colt wouldn't just outright attack Towhee.  Didn't make sense.  Either way, as soon as he heard the howl, Quixote redirected his last charge towards the borders, eager to share some gossip and start planning how they'd go about bringing Colt back into the fold.  Surely, that was what he'd want, right?

Today's non-feathered problem?  Colt wasn't alone.  Quixote slowed a little early to asses the scene.  There were a few things (read: Raven) that Quixote wouldn't be able to be as frank about as he'd like, then.  Sure, Tegan and his siblings might be in the adult ranks, but Quixote still thought of them as oversized kids until proven otherwise, and so already was trying to figure out how to euphemistically communicate what happened but wasn't immediately coming up with anything concrete.  Not to mention he had no clue if any of the youths could keep a juicy secret for any length of time or if those beans would be spilled as soon as someone else showed up.  Goddamn, he hoped it'd be dealt with soon or he was gonna go grey worrying about all the ways it could go wrong.

Oh well.  He did finally come to a stop, Quixote wagged his tail, glad that his friend hadn't been totally shredded but it was not as enthusiastic had there been another reason for this call.  He assumed that Tegan had probably said something before Quixote had appeared on the scene, giving Colt time to answer before he spoke up, somewhere between perplexed and concerned, Damn, man.  This is the week for screwing up your own life, but I think you've gotten the high score for punishments so far. -- The hell happened to just talking?