Hushed Willows get me drinkin' that moonshine

at least the punk knew when to quit. boone rid himself of the tension with a shimmy of his torso and a half-step toward him.
nah, he blows air from his nostrils, tongue flicking up and over to warm the tip of his nose. don't really feel like havin' my eyeballs pecked out today. 'less you wanna take a stab at it.
boone felt himself begin to walk toward the creek that cut through the heart of the hollow, head swiveling back around in a silent gesture for kyrell to come along. there were still caches that needed filling, and there had not yet been a good time or place to go looking for large game. instead, boone took opportunities when they were given to him. you ever been fishin' before, brother?