Seaside Moors a weak and repellent man at his worst

"reckon so," briggs agreed, deferring to heph's suggestion. goat-hunting took a mighty lot of speed and heavy muscles, sharp quick teeth and a willingness to be dragged a little ways.
he figured the pair of them had such recklessness in spades, and shot her a roguish look. "yew left, me right?" he grinned at her. "could try an' run them over the side, or cut that'un out the herd."
he was partial to the first thought: less injury, but they'd have to climb down for the bodies, dodging the angry seabirds and the talons of disturbed salt-eagles.