Swiftcurrent Creek it was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles

“I’m sure Coelho will be eager to meet you too,” Bronte returned with a small smile. He had no question that the young girl would share a sweet optimism with all of his pack, so long as they offered her a chance. She was different – like no one he had ever met – but she had a way about her that was contagious. The dark DeMonte was grateful that he had found her and that she had endured his stubborn nature and prickly days. If Rannoch was seeking good company for his ranks, Bronte had no doubt that he would find that in Coelho.
 
The question fell and the dark bear turned to the young Alpha with a questioning look. “No, but I’ve been quick to adjust. You like it, I’d wager?” he responded and then returned with his own inquiry. Knowing that if the Frostfur had opted to build his life on the side of the bluff, there had to have been a compelling reason. Bronte had always been fond of the wood and the lush trees that provided shade on warm summer days. He was adaptable, though, and would take what he could get.