“What d’ya’ reckon it is, Maisy?” Clive squinted into the sun. “Nutin’ good, dat’s what.”
“Well, I s’pose we’d better go’n check it out.” Clive pulled at the reins. Maisy yanked back, shaking her head vehemently.
“Now, no need t’be like dat, Maisy, we’s jus’ takin’ a look-see.” He patted her on the neck, “C’mon.” He pulled again on the reins.
Maisy tore the reins out of Clive’s hand, huffed loudly, and danced backward two or three steps.
“Now, I’m sure it ain’t nutin’ we can’t take care of,” He patted his holster, “Dere’s no need t’git all lathered up.” He grabbed the reins again and stroked her neck. “I ain’t never steered ya’ wrong. Yer the fastest thing on four legs born un’er d’sun, dere ain’t nutin’ t’be worried about.”
He leaned into her with his knee and managed to coax several steps out of her before she balked and reared. “C’mon, Maisy! We’s jus’ gonna check-”
Clive glanced back toward the sun. A shadow was growing.
Maisy bucked and reared, throwing Clive from the saddle. She tore off in the opposite direction.
“Now, dat was uncalled for.” He said, standing to his feet and rubbing his backside. “Dere ain’t no reason-”
A great shape flew overhead, buffeting him with its passage. The beast soon dove upon Maisy and lifted her in its claws. The great creature shrieked victory.
“Ya’ stirred up a hornets nest now, Creature. Dat dere’s my horse.” He pulled out his Colt and opened fire.