Bobitron
Explorer
Buckley glares about the area with murder in his eyes, raising his rifle and swinging it wildly around the horizon.
"Cal! You OK back there?" The concern in Buckley's voice is easy to hear. A low gurgle from Cal is the only answer.
"Dammit Callahan, yer goin' to hell fer this!"
Another shot rings out in the cooling air, hitting the groud in front of Buckley's mount.
"Back off, cowboy!" This voice is obviously coming from the smaller hill to the north, and is tinged with a thick Irish accent. "Me boys'll fire if ye don't turn back! Take what's left of ye herd and head south like ye planned!"
Buckley turns his head to the group. "We can't just turn back! Cal's dyin', and my herd is 'bout to be stolen away!"
"Cal! You OK back there?" The concern in Buckley's voice is easy to hear. A low gurgle from Cal is the only answer.
"Dammit Callahan, yer goin' to hell fer this!"
Another shot rings out in the cooling air, hitting the groud in front of Buckley's mount.
"Back off, cowboy!" This voice is obviously coming from the smaller hill to the north, and is tinged with a thick Irish accent. "Me boys'll fire if ye don't turn back! Take what's left of ye herd and head south like ye planned!"
Buckley turns his head to the group. "We can't just turn back! Cal's dyin', and my herd is 'bout to be stolen away!"