Two Rivers Isle my guns

Colt makes the first move.
A heady bark is sounded before Boone himself springs to action, feet pounding the earth; his teeth make a landing upon a rose-brown shoulder, latching for an all too short string of seconds before it escapes.
Well shit, now to try and keep up with the damn thing.
Take the rear, I'll git 'er from the side, he calls out, and then he takes off, jaws snapping and itching to steal another blow as the deer bellows out a frightened squeal. Silently, he prays for his own stamina — or lackthereof.
All the while, Colt is watched.