Julie
Of course, Dallas had heard the talk. He lived far off the beaten path from most of the town; solitary in his home, not a soul to worry about aside from his own— he didn't find himself worrying too much about things like bears or mountain lions or none of that. He'd encountered a coyote or two in his lifetime, and nothing could scare him. Not when he was walking around at 6'3 with a damn Winchester at his side. 

That was what he'd set about doing now; the last full moon, he'd been heading back from his work real late. The moon had been so damn full, he'd barely needed to use his headlights on his rattling old truck. The bed had been full of lumber; he was dead set on building himself a new shed before things got too cold. 

He'd heard *Something* That night. Just like he'd heard something last night too. And he was damned sure he'd go out looking around. Why not? Not like he had anything better to do on his day off. 

His faithful rifle at his side, he was walking along. Furrowed brow, that gruff demeanor didn't make him an approachable man at all; he didn't expect to stumble on the gentler of the Morton boys. He was so damn *Sensitive*, he wasn't sure he'd stand a chance against a bobcat or a bear in the holler. 

"You walkin' round this place without no protection?" He asked from behind, eyebrow raised. "If you ain't careful, someone might think you're a creature runnin' round." He warned.
Gabriella
Frankly, Max might have preferred a run-in with a bobcat to a run-in with Dallas Sinclair.

They were the same age, allegedly, only it was hard for Max to really believe as much when Dally was built like an ox - broad shouldered with at least half a foot on him. At least half a foot on *Most* Folks, he reckoned. 

That was all good and well, sometimes. Noah was the same way. But Noah's constitution was different. Noah didn't throw his weight around.

Dally did.

Still, Max would look at Dallas sometimes, how tight-jawed and animal-like he could be, and think about the rumblings he'd overheard about Dallas around town. About how he'd raised up his younger sister all on his own. And how could Max discard the kernel of tenderness he reluctantly held for Dally, knowing that? How could Dally be so different from his own big brother?

Didn't mean Max was keen on encountering Dallas and his Winchester. His warning read halfway as a threat. 

Max stopped on the trail and turned on his heel to address Dallas Sinclair proper.

"Mornin', Dallas," Max greeted with a nod as if Dallas had been half as cordial, "I don't go lookin' for trouble, so I tend to find it steers clear of me as well."

He offered a nod to the Winchester.

"Is that protection of yours for plain and simple peace of mind?" Max asked, because Max was not bold enough to ask the question he really wanted to lob Dally's way:

*You're bright enough to know better than to go lookin' for the thing what attacked the neighbors last night, right, Dallas?*
Julie
He tipped his head to the side and lifted the rifle before letting the barrel settle on his shoulder. "This beauty is gonna keep me from being chewed up like Beaux Thomas," He said simply, raising an eyebrow. "You really oughta bring some kind of protection." 

Of course he was going out looking for trouble. He wasn't scared of no damn animal, no matter how big. Pump em full of bullets, and see how big and bad they were then. "You know, I reckon you've read that they want us to stick to the main roads," He reminded him. "Heavily trafficked areas 'n all.." Out here, it was just the two of them. 

"What're you doin' out here, anyway?" He arched a brow. "You ain't tryna track down some bears, are ya?" Maxwell couldn't be that stupid... Right? No, he had to be smarter than all that. Someone like Dallas could but Max? No, that wouldn't be a good idea.
Gabriella
Max didn't think 'that beauty' was going to protect Dallas Sinclair from much of anything. Max thought 'that beauty' would only fill Dallas Sinclair almost to bursting with the brazen, unshakable sense that he was invincible.

Max thought whatever chewed up Beaux Thomas wouldn't see Dallas Sinclair or Dallas Sinclair's Winchester as much of a threat at all.

Max kept those thoughts to himself.

But Max was not the thing that chewed up Beaux Thomas, and Dallas Sinclair *Did* Set Max on edge. Whenever he spoke, it was with the cut of a suppressed taunt. Did it make him feel important, Max wondered, for Dallas to scare him? Did Dallas think that would be a particularly impressive feat? Any dog could back a rabbit into a corner and make its heart race. That didn't mean the dog was special. All it meant was the dog was a dog and the rabbit was a rabbit.

"The attacks are always at night. This trail's well-worn. Should be fine at mid-morning. 'Preciate the concern."

He wished he could have left it there and gone about his way, but there was no *Graceful* Way to exit the exchange - and it was likely best to humor Dally, insofar as he was able.

"No, I'm not hunting. ...Foraging, I s'pose."

Mm. The rabbit comparison was suddenly a touch too apt. Dallas felt like a different species of creature altogether.

"Herbs and the like. Likely wouldn't interest you, if you're hopin' to hunt."
Julie
Max Morton always seemed to have his very core shaken by the presence of Dallas. He wasn't quite sure why; perhaps it was the reputation he'd gotten himself these past few years. Just last winter he'd gotten into a nasty little land dispute that had ended up with fists flying. Thankfully, he'd only come out of the scuffle with a black eye; the other fella wasn't so lucky. 

But Dallas wasn't all testosterone and pounding fists. No, he had some sense on those hulking shoulders— and an innate sense to protect the people he *Did* Care about. And if Addie ever returned home, he wasn't about to have her come on back to a town infested with things that could tear into her like she was a chew toy. She was a small young lady, after all, and had a knack for sneaking out into the woods at night. He was sure she wasn't the only one in town like that. Teenagers could be fickle— maybe that's why he felt the need to take matters into his own hands. 

"Only been two attacks," He pointed out. "Who knows if them things decides to get bold 'er not, I'd rather be prepared. Y'aint even got a knife on ya?" He asked, coming closer to him and surveying the ground. No tracks yet, aside from the two pairs of boots in the dirt. 

"What kinda *Herbs*?" He squinted a little. "Didn't know you were some kinda *Botanist* Or whatever, Max."
Gabriella
What did it matter to Dallas what sort of protection Max kept on him? What would it matter to Dallas if he *Was* Mauled by a bear on the deer path? 

"'Course I keep a *Knife*, Dally." 

As if he'd rip a plant he was harvesting at the stem like some kind of savage. No, there were proper ways to go about the process. 

Max took an automatic half-step back as Dallas approached... But he kept asking about the plants, and it struck Max that, against every odd, maybe Dallas was asking in earnest...? 

"Botanist? I don't know about that. That sounds awful formal," He said - then paused, weighing how honest he wanted to be.

"...You heard Beaux was out of sorts at the time of the attack, I figure? I guess a few folks think maybe the marijuana smoke put the animal off, and that's why Beaux maybe didn't get the brunt of it. Figured maybe there are other plants that thing may be sensitive to, if that's the honest case."

He looked to the Winchester once more, skeptical. Anxious. Not for himself, really. But for Dallas.

"You came out here alone to find it? No hunting party or nothin'...?"
Julie
He rolled his eyes a bit at Max's tone. How was he supposed to know this young fella carried a knife? Then again, he supposed he was around the same age as Max... He just seemed so much younger than him. Hard to imagine they would've been in the same class if they'd grown up together. 

"I heard," He said. "Probably stank to high heavens enough to ward off a beast." The smell of skunk wasn't pleasant; he couldn't say he partook in that particular herb himself, but had caught his little sister with it at least a dozen times. 

He adjusted his gun, tilting his head to the side. "Why would I go 'round recruiting people to get themselves killed?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'd rather go find the damn thing myself and try an' take care of it." He grunted a bit, slinging the gun onto his back. "You know what kinda herbs an' shit out here could do the same thing what happened with ol' Beaux?" He asked him.
Gabriella
There were ways things were supposed to be done, proper channels to go through. Sure, for *Other* Folks in *Other* Places, vigilantism was a necessary vice. But here, there were good people looking out for them. 

Hunting this creature down alone? That struck Max as a suicide mission. And what would Dally's little sister think if she ever *Did* Make it back to town just to find Dallas six feet under?

"You tried speaking with Sheriff Rowe? He'll be organizing parties to search, I bet. Bet he'd be relieved to have you volunteer." 

Max didn't doubt Dally's skill with that rifle he'd slung over his shoulder. But he was only one man. And behind the bravado, there was something boyish about him still, like he was off to hunt down the monster from under the bed or in the dark corner of the closet. 

And he didn't let up on the herbs. Which was nice, in its way, even if Dallas was crude in his delivery.

All the same, Max wasn't sure he was ready to relinquish the most honest bits: that the plants would tell him, in their private, secret, wordless language. He could feel the pulsations at his fingertips. He came here to forage because the plants knew him, they trusted him, and they'd sacrifice their own to the cause as well. 

Sawyer had enough on his plate. He didn't need Dallas Sinclair causing a ruckus about how Max was a loon, on top of it all.

"Sorta. I know a lot about plants. Read a lot about 'em. Work with them plenty, cooking and medicinal and all. I have a couple of ideas. I figure some investigating can't hurt and might help."

He couldn't hold back the question.

"What's the culprit, you think? I never heard of a bear acting this way."
Julie
He was listening, though his eyes were wandering the woods beyond the path. The trees grew thicker and denser beyond here, and the shadows cloaked things even in the bright of the morning. In the night, he knew it was even worse. Sometimes, you could hardly see a foot in front of your own face unless you had a light on ya. 

His attention turned back to Max, lip curling a bit at the mention of following some kind of order from a *Sheriff*. He wasn't exactly opposed to the law, so to speak... But he wasn't all excited about having to abide by the rules of some sheriff. He stuck to his own, and he wanted the same treatment in return. 

"I'm alright doin' it on my own. I'm sure Sheriff Rowe can manage without me," He said, grimacing a little. He looked down at the multitudes of grass and clover and weeds at their feet. He didn't know much about plants or none of that, but a sensitive soul like Max Morton was the perfect culprit for a man with a green thumb. He was the kind of person who could care for something so gently, with *Love.* When Dallas had been young, he'd once helped his mother in the garden. That year, all the things he planted died. Maybe he just didn't have any of that tenderness in him. 

"Ain't no way that was some bear," He said. "Could be some kind of... Cat-like animal, maybe."