Wapun Meadow good, honest work

"that's what i like'ta hear." dolce mused with a low rumble. amicable silence settled between the two outlaws then. he took the lead for now, nostrils flaring as the mulie's scent slowly grew stronger, and the snow the tred upon dotted with it's hoof prints.

there was a clearing up ahead. he stopped at the tree line, eyes squinted as he surveyed. a group of three does, trifling through the snow in search of anything green that may hide beneath. with a grunt, he swung his head to peer at cole. "y'wanna lead? reckon i could flank 'em, if you wanna drive 'em toward me." he offered.