Sun Mote Copse And now my dreams, are nothing like they were meant to be

Niamh snorted and cackled at her son's response, but the grin on her features wasn't wry- finally, her son showed some semblance of having a bit of a backbone. This was reassuring, and she found his cockiness reassuring. It reminded her of the way Colt used to be, so bold and full of himself, but not without softness and kindness, which Bronco illustrated next. It was what she loved about him the most; for all the faults she saw in him, she adored every bit of him that reminded her of Colt. 

She gave him a sidelong glance, but as they stepped into a sunbeam that spilled down through the yellowing leaves, she stopped in her tracks. He continued on for a couple steps, describing his friends as being pretty, and she shook her head. There was another sunbeam just to his left- so she stepped forward and deftly gave him a bit of a nudge with the bridge of her nose, just enough to make him side-step into the light. 

"Oh for grapes' sake, Bronco-" She cried. This was almost as startling as the day she'd realized that Primrose was more of a peach hue than blonde. "Why the fuck are you sparkly?"