As one of the two twins (hell if he could tell them apart) asked what the fuck he wanted, Rafe merely smiled a sarcastic and assuming smile. "Well, boys... I am removing you from an equation," he replied with a subtle dip of his chin. The red bay watched as his small band of family who had raised him from an orphan began to try and close in on the two, massive twins. Five of his family members had shown up on their travels, and Rafe could not have been more grateful for their time. "You see... the band I have chosen to association myself with is going to invade the pathetic excuse for a herd that you call the Foothills. So, if you would follow me, please, I would greatly appreciate your cooperation."
Six against two were not very good odds, but Rafe knew that his family would not stay for very long.