Hoshor Plains Roadrunner

The interaction was gradually growing stale, for him, and Calahan wondered if she spoke only empty threats. "Oh, no welcome committee...that's a damn shame." He mockingly pouted, feigning disappointment. It hadn't been too long ago that he'd aggressively ushered interlopers away from the whitefish river. That was the joy of being a rotten hypocrite, the outlaw decided. He could hassle a feller for something or another, then proceed to do the same thing right after.

She was as sour as a saurel. "C'mon, lighten up. If I were here to rob this place, yew'd have already known that. Unless yer as foolish as ya look...in that case I don't reckon yew can see past the end o' yer own snout." The rustler was being inflammatory, while maintaining a cheery tone.