Sun Mote Copse Oh Heartland, Up Yours

His eyes had opened a few days ago, but there really hadn't been too much to see just yet. There was a great light that came from one part of the den every day, though it faded when the temperature got colder and when he felt more sleepy than ever; he was learning the difference between day and night. But generally, he and his sister were kept inside the den, or just near the mouth of it by their mother who was quick to give them a good, stern nudge should they try to wander too far. Her eye was on them always, and already it had begun to annoy Bronco. So he waited until his doting mother dozed off, pretending to be asleep by her side with his sister, @Nellie. 

So when he was fairly certain that Niamh was asleep, he slowly, carefully, pulled himself away from her side and as quietly as possible, made his way toward the mouth of the den. Exhausted from being a life source for two demanding kids, not much would've woken Niamh up just then. She'd never been aware of just how deeply she could possibly sleep until she'd had kids- which had disturbed her slumber at every hour, so whenever she did get a moment to rest, sne conked out pretty darn hard. She'd begun to snore, a certain sign to Bronco that he was safe to check out the world outside. 

It was bright out, and it took his eyes some time to adjust. But what he saw was amazing, so very different from the world he'd known thus far, which had consisted just of his family, the things they gave him to play with and chew on, and the cool darkness of the den. He blinked as a bird flew overhead- a harmless crow, and he knew no fear. He sat down with the mouth of the den casting a bit of shade over his back, but the sun's warmth felt so pleasant and wonderful on his shoulders, that he was content to stay where he was, more or less obediently hanging close to the den even if he wasn't meant to be out on his own.

Niamh was asleep, but Colt was out.  He'd ranged the southern edge in search of food and returned with a large goose, slightly ruffled.  He dragged it alongside and then dropped it as he smiled, catching sight of a familiar small face there to greet him.  Hey kid, what are you doin up, huh? he asked in a hushed voice, sitting down and stretching his back with a slight wince.  This getting older shit sucked.

The little boy in front of him wouldn't know anything about that, though.  You know mom will have both our tails if you go sneaking off, he added with a grin, but lowered his nose to bump it affectionately with his son.  Chip off the old block... ma had always said it took him all of a week to find out where the exit was and make for a jailbreak.

Already, Bronco had learned the difference between his parents- at least, the most important differences that effected him directly. Now that he could see, he could tell them apart not only by their scent but by their looks. Dad was bigger, and darker, and had a different shape to his face that made him seem so grand to little Bronco. Still, despite all the curves that his mother had when compared to his father's angles, he associated the softness of his mother's looks with the rigidity of rules. Though others might have seen Colt and assumed immediately that he was more of an authoritative figure than his sylphlike mother, Bronco knew otherwise. So when he saw his Dad approaching, he lowered his front end and wiggled his stubby tail furiously behind him. If it was Mom, he'd be in trouble. But this was Dad. Dad was cool. 

Better yet was the fact that he'd brought something with him- something that had strange fur that ruffled in the breeze, and didn't look like a wolf at all. Its neck was very long, and its eyes so small- and rather than having a muzzle it had this strange, dark hard thing on its face- if that was even its face. His father dropped it and came toward him, stretching, but Bronco was, for a moment, very distracted by the odd creature his father had brought home. 

Colt's tone wasn't angry, threatening, high-pitched or loud...He spoke with the same low, calm tone he always spoke with, and Bronco had already learned that that meant he wasn't in trouble. The smile on his face told Bronco he was going to get away with it this time. When he was nudged, Bronco rolled over onto his back and opened his mouth, uttering a rumbly little tenor "Rrrrrrurrrrurrrurrrr!" As he reached for his Dad's muzzle with his front feet. He harmlessly clamped his little mouth shut a few times, as though snapping- an indication that he wanted to play and rough-house with his Dad.

Colt saw Bronco's eyes following the goose and felt a small thrill of anticipation.  All too soon he'd be teaching both Bronco and Nellie how to hunt, and what a ride that would be.

His son met his nose touch with a grab and some low growling.  Colt left his muzzle within reach to be grabbed and, when it was, let a couple playful growls of his own rumble out.  Soft and non threatening, of course.

He opened his mouth a bit but didn't go to nip just yet... he wanted to see what Bronco made of the game before he started playing for real.

He batted at his father's muzzle a few times with his little feet, a gurgling little giggle accompanying the husky smile that spread across his features as he did so. His Dad didn't even really seem to wince or notice that he was being smacked with all of Bronco's might- which of course, made him idolize his father's strength and size even more. Carefully, then, the little play-slaps ceased, and instead he started fishing, just gently at first, for his father's whiskers, strumming them the way one might run their fingers over nylon guitar strings. But of course, with everything, Bronco started gently at first, and then laughed- and then started flailing wildly as he more or less played a guitar solo with his father's whiskers. 

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaa-AAAAAAAA!" He articulated, his piercing voice jumping up a couple octaves with excitement as he fished at his father's whiskers, before he erupted into another fit of baby-giggles. He was stunned into silence and stillness as his father uttered a low, purling growl, causing the little boy's eyes to widen. "A-huh huh huh," He responded, a chortling sort of husky, belly laugh- before he did his best to imitate his dad, pulling his lips together. "Mrrrmrrrmrrmrrrrr," He imitated, his voice still much too high to manage a proper growl, but he did his best anyway. He fell silent again, expecting for his father to repeat the sound- monkey see, monkey do. His Dad's mouth was open- now what was he going to do with it next? 

Before Colt could do anything, though, Bronco squinted slightly, screwing up his little facial features for a moment- before he promptly seized and sneezed loudly, right into his Dad's open mouth. This, though, he thought was absolutely hilarious, and without an apology, began to guffaw with laughter.

It wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling, having his whiskers treated like a Gibson, but Colt put up with it long enough for Bronco to give a huge smile and giggle.  Success.

His son's growl wasn't exactly impressive but it warmed the cockles of Colt's old heart.  He would be wiley as his pops one day, or at least know enough fighting to get himself out of any sticky situations.  Fight to run was pretty much Colt's calling card all through his adolescent life.

He was about to go in for a monster fake-nip when Bronco sneezed abruptly right in his open mouth.  Another might have been disgusted, but Colt let out a huge guffaw.  Shots fired! he exclaimed, then gently grabbed the boy's ear.  Im ga geh you fr tha.  The threat was a little broken up by the gentle mouthful of puppy ear, but the sentiment was there.

Bronco continued to squirm and wiggle with delight as his Dad reacted to the wet sneeze he'd emitted. His aim had been perfect- and he hadn't expected a negative reaction, as he'd never done such a thing before- and instead, he was rewarded. He'd have to remember to try and pull that trick on his Mom, when she was being a grouchy-pants, to see if it cheered her up too. 

Dad grabbed one of this floppy little ears, with a sort of gentleness that Bronco was more used to receiving from this parental figure than the other one- and since he'd gotten used to his mother's inexperienced roughness, this did little to stop him. He squealed, and tried to mouth at his Dad's face, but his neck was too short, his Dad's muzzle was too big, so all he could do was make soft chomp chomp noises as he opened and closed his gummy mouth in the air, making a racket of gurgles and growls the whole time.

going to close so we can start fresh after!

Oh, ohhhh, you got me, we're going down! Colt rolled over with exaggerated dramatics, playing the vanquished role rather well if he did say so himself.

As he rolled, he scooped up Bronco for a cuddle with his forelegs, trapping him briefly while he showered his son with affectionate nuzzles.  Usually not one for outward displays, Colt was finding he had a hell of a soft spot when it came to his kids.  Eventually he set him loose, though, and led him into a nice game of tug on a stick lying nearby.