Sunspire Mountains all the butterflies have turned to vultures in my stomach

Boar Riley was not, though he might be as boorish as one (hah, get it?). While he was sussing out her scent, Esme might be able to slip off like Pete's ever-lovin' Cora, if she was quick and discreet. Which, we knew she was, given she was slippery as Everet McGill at a constituent's rally.

Riley didn't even notice the scent of boar. He was so transfixed on Esmé's scent he didn't even hear her rise either. It wasn't until she spoke, that Riley turned with the startled aura of a cat; having heard first the bashing of Esme's brain, the subtle underbreath exclamation, and then the very-not-subtle bellow of her casting voice. It hit him like a tornado, and he winced as he bent down, feeling pain shoot up his leg -- a reminder of the unkind scuffle he had been in not a day prior.

Luckily, Riley was not one to take the greeting sourly - by the time he had processed that he had been invited to fuck off, he was trying to grapple the next reality: it was Esmé that had spoken to him. Was he the one -- wait, what boar? His face slackened off, like he'd hit his own head in the process. There were boar here?

If he was smart, he would have said yes - anything to win the favor of his lady.. Riley was anything but, and missed the opportunity like Sheriff Cooley missed the Soggy Bottom Boys at every turn.. "Esmé!" He exclaimed in response, not even bothering to answer her question. He was in a sorry state, but did his best to puff out his chest and hide the serious gashes along his flank and hip. "I thought I lost you."