Blacktail Deer Plateau disasterpiece

he laughs. a deep, gravel-throated sound that don’t belong in a dream and sure as shit don’t belong in the living world either.
wolven shoulders hit. the ground grunts. croft’s chin tilts up, eyes glinting with half-dead fire.
easy, tiger. i ain’t here to kill you. yet.
he doesn’t flinch at the teeth. just lifts a paw, dust-streaked, and shoves the merc off. he’s more nuisance than threat.
you sleep like someone waitin’ to die. ‘cept you ain’t dead. not yet.
his tongue runs lazy across his teeth.
name’s croft.