Redsand Canyon They're throwing bottles at your house.

Mmkay. Ignored for the second time.

Hands on his hips (metaphorically, you clowns) Sunhawk eyed Big Wig and then Woundwort, issuing a YUGE huff when Genshed-the-female drove forward, telling him to move with a none too kind expression.

Yo, all you had to do was ASK. Sunhawk jumped away, keeping his pelt away from the sauce the Rattlesnake-Lady was ready to dispense in full: no, he was not interested in extra cajun spice, thankyouverymuch.

Sunhawk doubted very much a wolf with a broken rib could keep up, but hey, who was it hurting besides Nurse Ratched? She only ran the risk of perforating her cecum or other internal organs -- No... Big.. Deal. People come back from that all the time.

Spoiler alert: they don't. They die painfully horrific deaths. But, that's none of Sunny's bidness, ya feel?

On the plus side if she happened to nick her spleen, Sunhawk would be able to skip off none the worse. It was a win/win situation, truly.

He couldn't help but feel Revui, however, was not in position to win with his inability to Articulate Anything Properly. Clearly, he was to be this misunderstood man's mouth-piece. "How about a rain check? I'd hate for you to lose that bloomin' viper you call a woman, and, you'd hate for me to lose my buddy here, Speak-Badly-And-Offend-With-Much-Ado; maybe, we can hunt another time when all of us are in better moods." Sunhawk's voice cast over them obnoxiously loud, because, yannow, he was tired of being frickin' ignored.

Third time's the charm, amirite?