Lost Creek Hollow A Fistful of Dollars

The fawn saddled male stops when he hears the indifference in the others voice. The one named Goldenwind. A fairly interesting name that suited the canary coated wolf. Surely the smaller male was as fast as the wind too. That’s the problem he’s always had; he’s too slow and has lost the tracks of multiple wolves when he worked on his farm. Oh well, it can’t be helped.

Still, he can’t help looking back to the other. His ruined ears trying their best to shift on his skull. He keeps thinking of Luke. A happy go lucky man. He should be more like him and go play with the little, yellow wolf. He’s kinda cute in a way.

He turns fully and trots up closer to the other, probably startling him since he was behind him. His face is still moderately emotionless except for the curious gleam of excitement in his sky blue eyes. Even the wag of his useless, stumpy tail betraying him, a small wiggle of his hindquarters along with it as well.

“Just kidding.” He hums deeply. “I’m not gonna kill ya. I kind of wanna play with you, little wolf.” Comes his monotone yet more excited reply than his previous ones. “You literally have to play with me now.” He comments with a droopy, yet charming smile. Wide and floppy, spotted tongue poking over his front teeth.