Mudminnow River you're not better than me, damn you
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#1
All Welcome 
after splitting ways with miz amalia, colt ranged a bit. he caught himself a fat woodpigeon and hunkered down to eat. he slept as long as he liked and woke with a grunt and a stretch when the sun was approaching afternoon.
colt was curious to know who else might be around. and he was still looking for reno, despite jaime's mocking.
he began to sing a loud and lewd song as he walked, one about a barmaid and a man with a piece of carved ivory.
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#2
you know who else was asleep half-past noon? good ol' kentucky. who was promptly woken up by the screaming of some rooster.

a song, one she may or may not have heard before, hard to tell.

so she rolled upright from her bed by the river, groomed herself a bit to a proper form and sauntered over to the sound of music. if one could call it that. stone blue eyes settled comfortably on a rather rugged form. large and lanky, looking like he fell off the devil's backbone himself.

your ma teach you that one?

a possible insult, a possible compliment!

this quipped with a waving tail and lingering grin.
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colt shut off his caterwauling as soon as he was addressed. his scarlet eyes narrowed. as far as he knew, she weren't one of theirs, not even adjacently. and because the only other he'd met was unattached to a gang, a pack wolf, he was immediately suspicious.
she was eye-catching, sure, but he wasn't desperate enough to throw all caution into the wind. colt sauntered toward her with a snicker. "careful now. someone who cares might give a fig 'bout yew mentionin' his mama." his gaze said not me though!
colt spat birchbark juice into the grass. "whereabouts yew roll in from, suzie q?" a challenge, testing.
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#4
she offered a bark of laughter and a smile full of teeth. he was good humored, those who slid off the devil's backbone often had to be. thick skin was a necessity.

don't think it matters much, only matters where i'm headin'. she responded with a wide sweep of her tail. briefly sidestepping her way closer to him. danced a few steps ahead to afford him a better view of her, of course.

and it's miss may to you. ain't wantin' the same nickname as all your other girlies.
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colt snickered openly, exposing his yellowed teeth. "yew know, i heard that b'fore. recently, even. accused of bein' a womanizer, y'see." he closed his eyes in mock consternation but in the next they were on her own hard blue eyes.
"yer a bit fetchin' for a reg'lar sorta hooligan, miz may." colt observed. her coat was a gradient of color that drew his gaze but not for long. he was still suspicious of her, jaunty or not. "yew can fergive me for assumin' you was — not from around here, we'll say."
another stream of earthen spittle; he ground his toughened heels into the ground. "but i can also tell yew done a job or two, so come up off off it now, sweet'eart. tell me who sentcha."
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#6
she grinned, big and wide and crooked. a bit out of place on somebody who carried herself the way she did. he was a real smart devil, wasn't he!

and if i told ya i sent myself? a brow raised as she pulled her features into some look of delighted humor. who's to say i didn't come here to do my own work? her tail offered a large sway, as she pepped a few steps ahead.
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"well, then i might ask if yew lookin' to run with a gang fer said job or if yer stayin' solo." colt trotted after her, keeping a distance between them and drifting to her far right. 
he doubted that she was on her own, being a woman and all. usually they needed protection. and quite often a man who offered it was repaid in a certain kinda way. a prairie marriage, he'd heard it called. 
and colt was a bigamist from here all the way back to silver valley. he ended the agreement when children came along. that wasn't part of his contract because once a woman was slow and round, her ability to pursue jobs with him also went away. and that was the foundation for these pairings: work of a dirtier kind.
suppose miz may was seeking the same sort of arrangement.
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she considered his words for a moment. realized the perfect in she had just weaseled her way into. the good thing about the devil's backbone was that it was easy to work her way up to the head.

there she could gather all her knowledge up, before rounding back home eventually.

oh why not? what sorta jobs you runnin', mister....? this asked as she turned her pale heady to look over an ashy shoulder. her look welcoming, perhaps overly so.
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that was all it took. colt briggs moved closer to extend a nose to her nape, just for a moment. "what kinda jobs yew after?" he asked in a throaty voice. 
he wanted to stow the talk for now, delay it for a while. then when he had her good and sated, he would decide what they did. and it had nothing to do with his looks, only his demeanour.
colt snickered and pressed ahead.
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#10

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: possibly suggestive themes?

this was not her first song and dance. she was not some sort of spring chicken. she allowed the hovering touch near her nape, leaning towards him some for it too. a wide swing of her tail.

any kinda job with you will do, a slight raise of one brow as she slowed down to a near stop. appraising him silently with her blue gaze. not shying away from it in the slightest.

you ain't got a wife, do ya?

she figured she knew the answer already.
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her abrupt warmth toward him triggered alarm bells of a kind in colt's head, but her yielding, feminine frame and deep eyes had him far too distracted to listen.
"not a wife kind'o man, darlin'," he rasped in a low tone. he nosed into her shoulders again, a long growl vibrating in his throat. "yew the killin' type, miz may?"
he nipped toward the back of her head, staying the power of his teeth at the last.