Phoenix Maplewood pieces of eight

colt watched her paw at the skull, listening to the clack of her nails against the ageing surface. "reckon i wouldn't want yew t'die in such a way that bound yew here, red." his voice fell an octave, touched with something like sentiment.
"don't rightly like to think about yew dyin'."
his eyes were on the scarlet hunter, watching her with a meandering and thoughtful interest.