Otatso Wetlands Trace the moment, fall forever

They didn't know each other from Adam. If Wildflower were a different sort of man, he would've thought that to himself. It would've made him wonder about the kind of man Tybault was. It would've called to mind the teeth of desperation that he'd so often felt pierce his hide.

Thoughtless men did thoughtless things.

Then again, Wildflower had a whole lot of thoughts. He'd still been reckless. Dangerous. Bad.

But he wasn't a different sort of man. These things didn't occur to him. What he thought instead was — leaving where?

"Alright," he agreed, easy as anything. His hesitation only became clear in his follow-up: "Away from your family?" Not that he had room to talk. He'd left two already. That was the coyote in him, though. As far as he knew, there was no such original sin chewing on Tybault's paws.