Whitebark Stream don't think we need to engage in any pleasantries

colt dealt with women in terms of debt. he had no idea how else to work alongside his desires; they were disjointed without a sense of being owed. 
indra had killed the buck tonight. they were on equal footing. 
still, he crowded her slowly against its still-warm body, enjoying the resistance of that physical presence behind her. the air was still thick with the scent of blood.
"yew like belongin' t'me, red?"
colt could no longer imagine that she was not with him. could she?