The swarthy young man had been near - perhaps not near enough before but definitely near enough now - to the sound of her high pitches yipes. Immediately, alarms sounded in his mind. The dark bear turned on his scouting trip and aimed himself for her cries. With a swift reaction, he arrived just as a stranger was standing over the body of his sweet little Coelho. Bronte could not imagine what the sprightly girl could have possibly done to be deserving of such a thing. His brows furrowed against the wolf that was obviously his superior and he darted toward both of them in a feverish attempt to save the nimble girl. He did not like the fear that flashed in her eyes. He did not wish to see her punished for something she might have done. Bronte had only wanted her to be with him, there, since Rannoch had recruited him. 

”Hey, whoa, hey,” he barked to the grey female with a bit more daring than he should have. The beating of his heart was wild and it carried him away. The fur along his neck and shoulders bristled with fear and agitation, but he made sure his head was lower than the other wolf’s and his eyes were glued only to Coelho’s. ”Don’t hurt her, please. She’s with me. Rannoch recruited me and she is... she’s part of the package,” he growled softly. Instinctively, Bronte moved in an attempt to aid Coelho, if nothing more than to act as a guardian over her smaller frame. 

The grey female did not relent as Coelho scooched her way toward him with a thumping tail and an expression of relief. The swarthy young bear fixed his gaze on his packmate and furrowed a brow; his mouth hung open in an incredulous gape. That had always been one of his issues with a life in a pack – everyone was always so damn uppity. At first, Bronte didn’t know how he was intended to respond to the stranger, only that he was rather shocked he had offered her Alpha’s name and it hadn’t seemed to phase her. How many wolves did Rannoch go trotting around with outside of the Sunspire? It left a poor impression on him and changed some of how he viewed the young leader of the mountain. Shaking his head, Bronte fixed the grey-cloaked woman with a clenched jaw and shrugged his shoulders sarcastically. “I don’t know, miss… maybe it’s because I know the name of the Alpha here and I’ve been trotting around in your territory for a couple of days now. Those might be persuasive to someone who’s conscious,” he answered with – what he knew to be – a completely insubordinate remark.

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.

“Coelho’s not a coyote… she’s just… part coyote,” he interjected with a furrowed brow. They both seemed careless about calling her something she wasn’t. Appearances weren’t everything, Bronte wanted to remind them. More than this, the young DeMonte would have died well before they had ever laid a fang against her. He was not interested in starting a fight when he was so new to their ranks, so he bit against his tongue at the quip that wanted to be released. When Rannoch inquired as to whether the sprite had been trespassing, Bronte couldn’t help but to snort softly. He turned his attention to the female who had confronted them and canted his head a bit. While he may have been wrong, Bronte was positive that his companion would not have crossed a clearly marked border. She may have been a bit airheaded, but Coelho wasn’t stupid enough to risk her life by stepping across a well-patrolled pack. There was a smug curling to his dark lip as he waited for the Sunspire stranger to answer the question that the Alpha had posed.

The stranger answered the Alpha’s inquiry and prattled on about her reasoning for having behaved so sharply toward Coelho. Bronte scoffed openly again, unafraid to hide the disbelief that he felt for her having approached them with such a difficult attitude. The dark bear thought himself to be in the right and for her to be very deeply-set in the wrong. Of course, it was primarily due to his youth that he felt this self-righteous flood of emotion for the young girl he’d traveled with. So, without much thought, Bronte canted his head to the left and cast a scrutinizing look to the female before inquiring, “and what kind of trouble did you think she would cause?”
 
Turning his head to look at Coelho, he noted her slender frame and the naturally apologetic and unassuming stance she took to avoid getting into trouble. She had only ever been a pleasant little tag-along, and Bronte had always been grateful that she did her best to keep her head low and only enjoy the gifts life had to give. She’d sobered his harsher thoughts on life, many times. So, what was this grey-furred female’s issue?