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

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.