“ yell at me an’ i won’t shoot! ” he will, of course, because he doesn’t fancy seein’ a man get mauled by a fat fuck off crocodile. or is it an alligator? he knows all his horse breeds from his days at the ranch, could tell you what type of horse he was lookin’ at from a mile off, but he couldn’t tell you what was in that water right then. only that it had huge claws, a huge tail, and an even huger mouth. still, despite all the frenzy his hand is steady as he fires several shots at the creature.
one, two, three four five! ( once i caught a fish alive ) any second now and the thing will have completely submerged itself, and there’d be no hope in hell for the stranger then. nobody’s seein’ that thing in this swamp of a pool, its water a murky green - brown, a thin film of oil and grime, and whatever the hell else is thrown into the reservoir of st denis, floating along its surface. its jaws open wide and the creature hisses at them. “ you go any god damn faster ? ” he shoots again and this time the bullet lodges itself into the crocodile’s head. the hissing stops. its head collapses onto its front webbed feet. a relieved sort of half whimper, half groan escapes him when he realises the thing is dead. doesn’t wanna deal with another one of those for as long as he lives, and he wasn’t even in the water with it.
slotting his gun into its holster, he slips off the side of his horse and leans down to offer the man his hand. “ gimme your hand. ”
He’s hunted crocodiles before back home--- he’s hunted PLENTY of places all over Africa even! And he’s been HUNTED too. Massive beats lurking in waters just as filthy as the marshes here in America. Yet, he always made it out unscathed. But then again, he usually goes into a hunt PREPARED. Being bucked off a damn horse, off a BRIDGE of all things ( smaller in size, sure, but the hard SMACK against water still stung all the same. ), and damn well in the jaws of the animal was not something he excepted. A few more shots fired off from his revolver. The bullets were all but USELESS against the thick skin of the reptile. It wasn’t enough fire power.
Quint felt his gut do flips and his heart sink when his trigger CLICKED and the monster began sinking beneath the water’s murky surface. Common move before they flew back up to STRIKE their prey. He’s seen it one to many times. “I’m fuckin’ tryin’!” A foot sunk to far into the mud as he neared the water’s edge. Resulting in him falling back with a splash, and a cry of pain as he lands on an already injured arm, which was to to EXCITE the beast more. Blue hues close tightly when they meet with that GREEN GLARE of the crocodile it’s hiss making the hair on his neck stand straight UP. Then there was the final shot--- and just as quickly he could hear the water settle. The bounty hunter almost had to FORCE himself to even look. A shaken sigh leaving him when he sees it’s indeed dead. With a groan he pushes himself up. Freeing a booted foot from the mud that all but consumed him.
Looking up, he reached for the hand that was offered, a hop to offer a little leverage to his “SAVIOR”. Left elbow caught the edge of the bridge in an effort to crawl up. Another groan of PAIN ensured. “Thank you---” it’s spoken through gritted teeth, but it’s sincere, “Thank you... I would’ve been that behemoth’s LUNCH.”
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