Porcupine Ridge the sooner you fools accept that,

basil-what?
colt didn't question it. bastard like him'd traveled long enough and heard hundreds of names, a few of them fool ones but all of them meaning something.
his stomach clawed again; he thought he might be ill. "yer sayin' i'll lose my good looks, doc?" he teased in a rasping voice. it ended in a cough, and colt sighed next in true bone-weary tiredness.