Hushed Willows Quixote

He scanned imperceptibly as he waited, his remaining eye used to the strain of the single life by now. He was sitting by the time Tambourine came into view, and as the approaching figure failed to reach an adult size the closer it came, he did not feel obligated to stand. It was a surreal moment, regardless, because all at once he felt like he knew who this boy was, despite having not seen him since infancy. The adolescent certainly didn't look like the long and grey potato he remembered, and Octavia's scent had long stopped clinging to his spiky fur, but the Keep's founder speculated anyway... At least until the youth came to stand attentively before him, one ear toppled over like it was heavy. Without any true evidence, Warbone knew this to be his partner's son. 

"Bad guy," the bronze brute confirmed in a low rumble. "Actually, bad girl." Sivra Solothurn, he thought bitterly. She was dead now, but she hadn't lost her life before taking a significant piece of him with her.