The Floodlands like a dog with a bird at your door

!!!

colt'd been hungry for her, though he had stayed close to the isle, sharing company with miss @Iseul as she allowed, and goofing with @Sadey by turns. if asked, he would heartily deny any notions of courtship aimed at the deputy, though secretly briggs allowed himself a daydream here and there about a homestead, something he hadn't done before. the thoughts riled him up.
"yer jes' gettin' plumb domesticated, yew old rat," he growled to and at himself, stalking out to start one of his intermittent long hunts. "gotta git a move on afore you keep dreami--"
well. he knew that voice. colt switched the bolus of fresh birchbark into his other cheek, spat an arch of brown juice at the ground, and headed off at a jaunty prance.
he recognized it and the scent threaded around his throat like a lasso drew him fierce and up-close. colt nipped wren's throat and growled against her shoulder, "come on."
away from the packland, away from ulrich, who might see any woman so close his by right. colt hadn't a notion of marital loyalty, and so did not understand why any man would ignore temptation. 
his red eyes burned like catching coals, all soft-sweet idea of homesteading put right out of his fully masculine head.