Haunted Wood Run Me Like a Racehorse

A pause stretched from his words as his gaze silently swept until a voice returned his call. It was then that he was able to hone in on the shape near by. Quick to turn in pursuit, Calhoun would approach this "Blackthorn" as he offered an apology. The name rang no bells, nor did it truly matter to him. Only one family name mattered and that was his own.

I am not disturbed, though these lands are now claimed by the Déorwine family, albeit temporary, Bronco Blackthorn. The name felt strange on his lips, though he'd at least try to swallow his overflowing pride. After all, this man might not be his family, but he was better than the one Clenes had strung along. Familiar warm hues covered the other, the same as those touched by the High Elk.

It seemed that the pair had fallen upon the same scent path, a deer lingering nearby. Maybe this was a blessing from his God in disguise. As great of a hunter as he was, it still took more than one to succeed in taking down large prey. Red eyes gave the other a quick once over before deciding that he was fit enough to assist. You're a hunter? I can find it in me to forgive you should you aid me in my hunt.

Perhaps he would even send the other off with a portion of his own though he quickly found himself questioning the train of thoughts. Maybe this "acceptance" of the Kings new laws had seeped deeper than intended. An issue for later.