Cricket Creek Bog The world don't speak for us

Colt relaxed some when he saw the sisters stop, not liking the look of their walk.  Hopefully they'd take it easy for a bit.

His fur lifted, though, when Kiwi rounded on him and spat a counter to what he'd said.  Cool it kid, Colt retorted, eyes narrowed with a lack of humor despite his casual tone.  No hunt's worth injury, not unless your desperate.  Next time.  

He didn't much like her posturing, but he wasn't about to try and vye for her place, so he dropped his own head a bit and bit back some of the rudeness from his reply.  She's young, she'll figure it out, he thought, though he watched her turn and storm away skeptically.  Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn't.