Sleepy Fox Hollow honey in the rock and the sugar don't stop

Dusty Rose listened, large ears turned attentively toward the strange, scary hermit. As he spoke, the coywolf seemed to grow more and more contemplative, his face clearing otherwise of expression. He did this so that he would not laugh.

Not that this situation was funny, exactly. It was just so bizarre he wondered if Etienne might jump out from behind a tree and start laughing at him. If that were the case, Dusty wanted to beat him to the punch.

But that was clearly not the case.

"You don't think it's the mafia or something?" he asked, his ears falling back in concern. "I don't think that's like him — to get mixed up in somethin' real bad."

That was what Dad had said about Slow West, years ago, now. "Baby, I think he's mixed up in somethin' real bad," — to the flower eater, late in the morning, when the kids were all meant to be asleep. Dusty Rose said it now because he was great at mimicking Dad, and he could not think of anything else to say to this man.

The idea of it was laughable. Dusty Rose was very good, though, at keeping a straight and earnest face.

"Who all's comin' to see him?" he asked then, hoping that Etienne's other friends were a little more like him. And then, remembering that a question had been asked of him, "I'm Dusty Rose, by the way. Pleasure."