The Sunspire your eyes were the color of some kind of grey

The silver woman called for the leadership of the mountain, and Bronte took a single step back with an expression that radiated his feelings of being thoroughly unamused. The swarthy brute’s brow was furrowed over his dark gaze and his limbs remained rigid, stock still against the earth where he stood. Worrisome thoughts fluttered through his mind, imagining the frustration that Rannoch might feel for him, but Bronte had been very clear where he stood about Coelho when the two had first met. He would always be unyielding regarding the coywolf female and her bright nature.
 
When the Alpha of the Sunspire pack arrived, he stepped into the situation with a curious but stern hold over his features and frame. The DeMonte was quick to cast a pointed stare at Wraen before he frowned and lowered his skull for the leadership of the pack. “This one needs to be reigned in a bit. She’s convinced Coelho is here to steal from your caches,” the dark bear remarked and gestured toward the Gamma with a nod of his muzzle. “I tried telling her you recruited me, and that Coelho is part of that agreement, but she won’t budge.” He opted to leave out the rude demeaner that the female had taken when approached, and how she had treated his friend with a level of disrespect he’d never witnessed.