The Floodlands like a dog with a bird at your door

something about the other fragrances tangled into her withers excited colt; she'd had her full pick of whom she wanted but she'd come for him, he told himself, leading wren into a tangle of old trees with branches curving toward the ground like elephant ivories.
there he embraced her again if allowed, meaning to take his time with the seduction. it was a new thing for colt, who enjoyed a harder and faster foray. but if anyone had earned something new, it was her.
"an' yew came all the way to find me," briggs flashed back in a desirous yellow grin. he flicked his tongue across his lips, tilted a brow meaningfully. what did she want out of this? he craved her more than he was letting on, but years of miscommunication and angry words from jilted women, well — "i'm not a family man. ain't never gonna be no one's pa," colt told wren, knowing it might cut the moment right in half but feeling he liked her well enough not to leave her in the lurch. 
briggs planned to cut out of the isle, after all. he didn't think sadey wanted to leave, not truly, and a man needed to wander or else he'd lose his mind, just like he felt he was about to with wren.