The man to my left is the tallest of them all, probably an inch or two shorter than I am, and he’s got a jagged scar on his face that cuts across his nose.
The guy on my right has long, white blonde hair that he’s tied back in a feminine ponytail.
The fourth and final one, I note with a glance behind me, has yellowed, rotting teeth set in tobacco-stained gums. He keeps his mouth open the whole time, as though he’s proud of it.
“Deer hunting, eh?” the leader says, clicking his tongue derisively.
“That’s right. But no luck today. I was just heading back into town now.”
“Now, there’s no reason to run off,” he coos. “We just want to have a little chat with you.”
“About what?” I say, unable to keep the boredom from my voice.
This little s**t thinks he has me scared. I can see it in the a
