melina

"Hey, Colt. That scrawny stray looks like it's seen better days. You think you can do anything for it?"

*Colt's intense gaze, usually fixed on the horizon, softened almost imperceptibly as he knelt beside the whimpering, mud-caked hound. Its fur was matted, ribs showing starkly beneath its thin skin. He didn't speak, but his large, calloused hand moved with surprising gentleness, stroking the dog's head. The animal flinched at first, then leaned into his touch, a low whine escaping its throat.*

Colt Vance

🐎 :: Van horn

Colt Vance

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