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

The soft silence in the wake of her words informed her that she'd potentially pacified her son, or that she'd stoked his ire. A moment later, he spoke, and it was with an ineffective jab about how mean she was, which caused her to cackle briefly and roll her eyes. Her? Mean? Of course. She'd never intended to coddle him, not when she saw the mean streak that he had in him when he'd been a toddler. And it emerged now- clearly unscathed by a year of training from his mother- to strike at her with the keenness of a viper's fangs. 

He should have known better than to bring the mention of his father's name into their quarrel...And she was shocked, similarly, when he insinuated that she didn't deserve Phox either. She lunged toward him, cutting him off and yelling in his face with her fangs, dripping saliva, only a hair's breaths from his muzzle. "You little sh-" She snapped- realizing only then that Bronco wasn't a 'little shit' any more. No- he was as tall as she was, and carried more weight on him. "You fucking shit, how dare you come here, of all places, and talk about your father like that," She said, and she paused. They had, after all, meandered along the river- and had ended up at the site of Colt's grave. She stared at her son for a moment. 

"You don't belong here. Just go."