Cricket Creek Bog fragile stuff, all show

He snickered at Ridgeback's quip, and shrugged. "Ain't that bad," He said, off-handedly. He'd survived Towhee's training, and had been able to beat his peers in most of their dominance spars. He, like many others in the Copse, believed that violence should only be used to the maximum extent necessary and nothing beyond that. So if that meant chasing someone out of the pack, and letting them run off- then so be it. Even when he'd caught a stranger attacking his best friend, he'd intervened and had had to fight to the point where he'd had to make a grab for the male's throat- but he didn't kill him. The display of strength was enough. Bronco couldn't stomach true, senseless violence. 

He nodded when Ridgeback seemed to see how things looked, in terms of romantic options for Bronco. He wasn't even entirely sure who struck his fancy- all he knew was that the majority of the wolves in the pack  his age were related to him by blood. He would have gone on to comment on that topic, but as soon as Ridgeback expressed an interest in the pack, his ears perked. "Oh, we're not unfriendly toward strangers. S'long as you got some skills an' manners, I'd think you'd be OK," He said. "I can conduct an," and he cleared his throat, straightening up a bit, "Unofficial interview, if you want," He offered, with a smile. Of course, it'd mean repeating the same thing later, to someone who could actually admit him to the pack- but practice was always beneficial, right?