Swiftcurrent Creek I lied I'm not picking a thread title

Another annoying thing about Akavir: Dusty Rose could sorta relate to him. He'd always hated Slow West's tendency toward vague, poetic language. Getting information out of him was like pulling teeth and, well — bless her cotton socks, but Reverie wasn't being very forthcoming.

The coywolf was patient; serene, while things became progressively more awkward. At last, his piped up, saying,

"He's probably still around. But I expect he'll, ah — " he stole another glance at Reverie, wishing for a moment that she would just fuck off for a second so that he could think. Bad enough that these two Don Juans were getting a noseful of her. Dusty Rose didn't like the idea of knowing how scrambled his brains were. He was a good actor, though, and so he acted composed. "Come quietly," he concluded. He at least wished he could cover her glorious ears.

But really — Everett? Dusty Rose almost wanted to ask if she was sure it hadn't been Tybault after all.

"Whatever came over him — it's gotta have come over him, y'know?" He was speaking more to Reverie now than the other two, hoping he was correct in trying to convince her that it was a moment of insanity and not a show of true colors. "Not that that makes it better, or okay at all. But you're safe. Between me'n'you? Nobody's gonna getcha. We got that guy in the mountains to fuck right off, didn't we?"