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

Bronte and Wraen both conferred each of their perspectives, and Rannoch remained silent as he considered both sides; there were aspects of each retelling that didn't sit well with him. "I see," Rannoch acknowledged before he regarded Coehlo with a glance. Given her display of submission, she seemed to be the least of his concerns at the moment.  

"I wasn't told that Coehlo was a coyote when Bronte and I discussed the terms of his acceptance," he admitted, "But, yes, that would have been terrible if she would have died because of a miscommunication." 

Rannoch then turned to Wraen with a look of recognition; he could understand what had compelled her to act the way she did. "Was Coehlo trespassing when you met her?" Rannoch asked. He needed to know more about the situation before he could even consider coming to a conclusion.