ragged breaths expel themselves from blood-stained lips, shaky hand putting pressure on his chest wound. “ wolves, a pack of ‘em. could’ve caught my scent. “ his gun is at the ready, trigger finger itchy but otherwise, he’s calm, collected. “ they would’ve got me by now, not exactly in tip-top shape. “ he chuckles softly to deflect, but he knows the SEVERITY of the situation.
❝ LUCKY. ❞
there’s a SCOFF, though micah isn’t angry ( at the other ). damn wolves are surprisingly smart, & he hates hunting them down. to TAKE OUT ONE would send the pack for your ass, & it’s always risky business. “ then they know ya ain’t alone, “ he sighs. “ whatever, don’t need to KILL THEM ALL. just the one. “ takes a quick glance at the other. “ think ya too bothered t’a assist ?? ‘cause i’m not splittin’ the dough if ya STAYIN’ BACK. “














