Two Rivers Isle my guns

The tension between them is paid no mind for a fleeting moment, and instead, Boone's nose is pushed to the ground in search of a path. A neat trail in the shape of even-toed hooves, and at this, his tongue flicks from between his lips to taste the air for a scent that may be lingering. The tracks couldn't possibly be that old.
And if there was one thing about Southerners, it's that they know how to hunt a goddamn deer.
His goals in the isle? I'onno, he chuffs out a scoff, a visible heave to his armored chest. Only just got 'ere. I'm not lookin' for trouble, if that's what'ch'er thinkin'. His mind wanders to Iseul, how full her hands must be dealing with the rag-tag peanut gallery of cowboys who happened upon her peaceful home. Does Iseul hold her own okay, y'think?
Another track, which he follows at a slow pace — wouldn't want Colt to get lost. Or feel as though he had competition.