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

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?