Sun Mote Copse musical chairs is turning into an adult drinking game.

His laughter left him vulnerable to Penn's attack, and in all seriousness, he didn't really figure Penn could actually take him on anyway, so he didn't deem the smaller male a threat. Though Bronco had size on his side, and had had some training from Towhee, he didn't have much of a warrior's instinct in him, and had only had to call upon his skills once- in order to defend Sugar Glider against an attacker. It still made him ill to think that he had been in a position, once he'd beaten the male, that he could have killed him had he gripped the male's throat too tight. The memory haunted him, and he hadn't been in a fight since. 

Still, the fact that he didn't consider Penn to be an honest threat made him poorly prepared to defend himself. Penn's voice was sharp with frustration, and when he lunged, he lunged for Bronco's face. He'd been put through the motions of how to defend himself in a similar attack- and that jerking his face out of the way would leave his throat exposed, so he ducked it instead, allowing Penn to grab a hold of the fur and skin just behind his skull where it was thick and loose- a natural defense strategy. He pulled back, but felt Fennec at his side, so he didn't feel comfortable really putting effort into escaping, so he relaxed into Penn's grip, gritting his teeth against the pain. "Oh come on ya little shit," Bronco growled, tired of Penn's sensitivity, and after leaning back for a second, he suddenly lurched forward, hoping to thunk his head hard enough against Penn's chest that he might release his grip, though with only a few inches of space between them, he wasn't able to do much.