Swiftcurrent Creek cowpoke

ring-eye was the strong silent type. it was the yellow-eyed man that grabbed for the proverbial reins of the meeting. if more wolves flowed from the creeklands, sadey and colt would be fucked. as it were, they had the right numbers for what was surely to happen.
"i reckon yer not gonna do shit," colt shot back, his own muscles flowing into the familiar stance of a fight. he grinned with equal laziness at the pair of morons, then lunged for ring-eye.
best to take the biggest bastard on himself. sadey could handle prick-mouth.