Shadowwyn Moor been on the low lately the feds hate me

She didn't like the thought of Colt dead.
It seemed impossible, actually. He was the kind of person to persist even after the fall of all things; he was too powerful a presence to just die. He's alive, Indra vouched with certainty.
The girl eyed her companion a moment as if daring her to say anything contrary to her belief, but her eyes went a bit misty and far-away, as she considered their next options; but all she could envision was the emaciated corpse-walker that was Colt, clinging to life and surrounded by the rest of the gang, long dead.
It was sobering.
C'mon, those creek dogs would be in for a bad hauntin' if they gutted Colt. Her voice turned in to a wheeze, and after a huff and a cough, Indra began to stalk onward through the snow. Rest over - they had places to scout.