Big Salmon Lake outlaw

The stranger draws closer. This is a common dance between men, too. Comparison. The testing of limits, perhaps. Marius can assume quite a bit more now that they were aware of one-another and so close; he could see there were scars marking the man's flesh, and the sheen of his coat despite its ragged quality and its tangles. It is easy to presume this man is only just a man. The wilderness might have forced a kind of maturation in its own way.

Marius gave a chuckle in response to the man's counterpoint, scoffing. Once or twice, but not because of a man. The quip was derisive of women specifically — like most of the bullshit that fell from Marius' mouth, especially around others of his sex. But I learned not to worry so much.

Above all, having a lengthy roster of conquests was something to boast about. The chance of spreading his genes generously throughout his travels was a by-product of his hedonistic pursuits. From the look of this man before him, it was a potential commonality between them.

You get a taste for the locals? He took a deep breath, grinning. All around them was the scent of the coyote bitch who had spirited away. His attention waned from the stranger (which might've been a bad choice given the harsh look of him, but...) and made a show of shrugging, the equivalent of throwing up his hands.

Women. Fickle creatures.