Phoenix Maplewood don't start with [m]e

the addition of @Gun to the gang was an intrigue for many reasons. it was the latter of these which drove him swaggering along her doggish trail.
redbird made him feel insane. colt knew an old fashioned roll would cure him of it, and then he could go back to turning her into a killer.
he threw a muskrat toward gun's broad paws. "what'd yew want joinin' a bunch o'wolves anyway. th'pack, I mean."

she was snoring and snorting, body in and head out those freshly dug dens, when tar-snout dropped a fat rat at her paws.

gun - no surprise that a mind of few thoughts could rework the few existing ones - stared at it for just about a second, before tearing in, eyes still sleep-encrusted.

"hinter." she replied trough a full mouth. "not all oh ush look like shag carhets hhen the cold hitsh."

she spat out a bone.

colt snickered at that, though he shrewdly saw a segue. "yer cold, is it?" he arched a mocking brow and flicked his eyes over the much thinner fur covering the contours of her body.
the bone bounced toward him; he caught it and twirled it on his rough pawpad.
"plenny o'ways to keep warm, gun," he dared, lips quirking in a smile that said i mean exactly what you heard.

her munching stopped. for a moment, gun looked at empty air, dull-eyed, brainmush computing. then she swallowed.

she lifted her chin, hazel gaze climbing the man, until their eyes met.

it was never a skill of hers, reading other people. but, the mastiff could recognize those like her - the motherfuckers of this earth, the women and men as crude and hardy and blunt as she.

her wrinkled muzzle formed an open-mouthed smile.

where the hell have you been all this time?

"hhat, you know how to shtart a hire?" gun cackled, one meaty brow cocking.

colt laughed raucously. "yew only gotta rub a fire a little before it starts up." cheered by her encouragement, he swaggered closer. 
she was bigger than him but they were both hard-muscled creatures. where he was a cowboy, she was an amazon. he didn't give a shit, though, fuckin' was fuckin'.
"yew want me to show yew my way?" the yellowed teeth glistened.

she snickered in turn.

the woman rose to her paws, giving tar-snout her most severe bedroom eyes. the picture of demureness; if that picture had been chewed up and spat out.

"houldn't hind." gun rumbled, and aimed to walk around him, all sultry, until she stood beside him.

then she hip checked him.

that caught him off-guard. colt staggered a few feet but did not fall. he rounded toward her with a savage look that cleared to titillation. "yew wanna wrassle for it then?" the man growled. he circled and clicked his teeth on the air, then bum-rushed her, hoping to knock their bodies together in a true collision.

they collided with loud slap of flesh, and she hollered with mangled laughter. "ya know 'hat they shay!"

gun dove.

"shahe a horshe-"

her maws parted, aiming for the maned nape of his neck, one arm trying to get itself over his back.

"ride a cohhoy!"

colt was shocked and surprised and seduced, but the feel of her strong limbs around him fired the man's instinctual reaction not to be held.
her breath burned this throat. he arched his spine and rolled.
if colt briggs was successful, he would evade gun's mounting, only to end with her astraddle him.

it was the most goddamn joy she'd felt in months. gun was still howling as tarsnout sent them both rolling over the litterfall.

and when she realized the new compromising position he'd put them in, the mastiff, assuming intent, felt flattered. she set her wide paws up on his ribcage, looking down at him as if he were a snack.

and, goddamn, he kind of was.

"you hanna get thish rodeo shtarted?" gun rumbled, licking her chops.

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colt grinned lecherously up at gun as she thumped her paws right to the sinewy breadth of his chest. "reckon i am. don't say i never did nothin' for yew."
and then the races were on, his claws raking through her short fur.
long years of satisfying housewives while their husbands gambled had rendered him energetic. still he was selfish, trading longevity for his own pleasure-seeking. and colt dealt like a cowpoke at a stockyard: hard, irascible, and loud.
when they'd exhausted each other, briggs sat up with a loud groan of amusement. "yew ever wanna do that again, i'm more'n game."

implied a timeskip to keep it moving! <3

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he wasn't like the demure boys back home, tip-toeing with their dainty weights, and wasn't like that cheap big slut she had in the swamp, either. more like the real men of the gangs she ran with on the streets, rough and forceful and strong-armed.

not that she had anything against the pretty boys, god no, call her. but every now and then a woman needed a proper masculine presence in her life. pyramid of needs and all that shit.

"god!" the mastiff groaned, kicking up mushy leaftrash with a hindleg. "hnn-hnn!" she shook her coat out, then stretched, and found it wondrous that not a join was left to pop. 

grinning, gun threw her bum down and seated it next to tar-snout. leaning back, she attempted to snake an arm around his shoulders.

"-sh long ash you lasht longer than now, tar-shnout." gun teased, then cackled, knowing damn well he saw her swaying on her feet as she came over.

forgot to say in my previous post that you're 100% free to fade+skip, so it's 100% okay <3 

also i'm sorry that she thinks augur is a slut

he is! <3

colt saw the way her powerful haunches quivered after their liaison. he laughed. "i can give yew more, gun, if yer up for it." his teeth glimmered and then he stood to stretch. "starvin'."
the rogue appraised the amazon who had made his body feel so wonderfully alive. "let's go an' find lunch, hmm?" 
he was ravenous after that, nipping gently toward her cheek and unfurling toward a stalk.

she bounced onto her feet, chuckling at what to her was flirting so subtle it'd make a jane austen novel scramble for cultural relevancy.

gun nipped him back, albeit it was more of a chomp about his hip.

"lead on, tarshnout!"