Phoenix Maplewood pieces of eight

red's fists were hard. colt thumped his tail in approval as she described the state of the skull. "reckon yer right," he drawled. "would fall t'pieces before yew ever left here."
her question took him back to that night, and his red eyes felt faraway for a moment. "a ghost." his mouth twitched. "when a creatures dies unnatural-like, they don't get t'move on, redbird. they stay here, ferever."