Firefly Glen Could it be, this misery will suffice

Goin' with the rolls and Bronco rolled a WOMP WOMP on his aim from the last post.

While he had the perfect opportunity, what with Antares gripping the creature and Bronco close enough to make a good snap at it. He faltered, though, when he caught sight of a larger, silver form in his peripheral vision which threw him off balance and he lost his aim. That was Mal. This was definitely one of the many children, and the second that Bronco had heard of wandering from the pack's borders. All these thoughts swirled in his mind, with the image of Miriam's saddened features making his cheeks grow hot. Cheek turned to the badger, he missed its throat altogether and sank his fangs into its shoulder only to find that the creature then had the angle to snap at his jawline, fetching the underside of the jawbone with its lower jaws and grabbing a hold of him there. He roared in pain. 

But with the badger's nape in Antares' grip, he wrenched himself from the miserable creature's jaws, which left two parallel slices along his jawline, he ignored whatever was going on with the Neverwinter wolves and lunged, gripping the badger by its steadied, exposed throat and putting an end to the struggle with a frustrated yank. 

He lifted his head, and gave Antares a dark stare followed by a nod- a means of thanking him that was without need for words. He wheeled, then, and turned toward Mal and his daughter; how those mismatched eyes taunted him. He resented being distracted. He resented the fact that this was just another one of his children who had strayed from the borders- another beautiful creation of his that had inevietably chosen to leave on her own. Another child left unsupervised just for long enough. Any longer and she might've been the one caught in the badger's teeth. Bronco wasn't a parent- and perhaps he was completely out of bounds to criticize someone else's parenting skills, and assume that harm was inevitable for young wolves left unsupervised. But he was bleeding, and he believed that it was Mal's fault that he'd been distracted, and that it was Mal's fault this young girl had nearly wandered into danger's path. At the best of times, it was almost impossible to anger Bronco; but he was definitely frustrated, and struggling with it now as he stood, panted, and stared toward the Neverwinter Forest wolves as blood dripped from his jawline. 

He kept breathing, and eventually passed his tongue over his lips. He reached back to brush his jaw against his shoulder, blinking as a droplet of blood from his ear landed near his eye. He turned his muzzle back to Mal and the young girl, having calmed himself down just a bit, though it was with obvious struggle that he restrained himself from saying more. "It's alright. Your Dad will be taking you back to Neverwinter, safe and sound."