Big Salmon Lake Even if it's a lie, say it will be alright, and I shall believe

wc:557 Just going edit in a wee conclusion to tuck this-a-one away; would be happy to revive if you bring him back, or have another one some day :) <3

The instant he was spotted, Bronco could tell that the lone male put up a guard, and regarded him with scrutiny in the pale, yellowish glint of his eyes. There was no hostility in the focused look that fell upon him, but like a porcupine, he stiffened and bristled in what Bronco interpreted as being an obvious, but calm warning. One he heeded, and for a moment, the voice pestering him and the instinct that told him to also be on guard was quieted as his friendly nature presented itself in the form of a soft wave to his tail. Not necessarily an acknowledgement of the male's display of strength, but a statement that he intended no harm, regardless how strong he believed himself to be.

Had the male objected to his approach, Bronco figured he would have shown his teeth, growled, or told him to shove off. So when he was greeted with silence, he continued to approach, with curiosity in his calm gaze, which he kept averted, for the most part, so the male knew he wasn't being challenged. There was something still about him that seemed familiar- and it wasn't until Bronco lifted his gaze and noticed that those eyes that had clapped upon him with sudden starkness weren't yellow at all, but hazel. And below them a nose- soft pink in colour.

He stopped suddenly, and stiffened. Subconsciously, the wild part of his brain sent a signal along his spine, causing the fur there to lift and prickle, all the way from the back of his skull and down to the groove in his tail. He remembered launching himself at this same fellow, though he'd changed a great deal since the scuffle they'd had, probably about a year ago now. Time had toughened him, grown him into a fine young adult, which made Bronco's feelings all the more intensified by the potential threat in front of him. He couldn't remember what it'd felt like to have Dragomir's fangs rake across the bridge of his muzzle- but he still bore the scars, and he could remember how sickened he'd felt by the fact that he'd won the fight- and that he could have potentially killed the male had he just clenched his jaws a little bit harder.

He remained very still for a few moments, having ever fully decided what he would do should he face his foe again. And he was surprised, then, to find that a voice wound its way through his mind- and that the voice belonged to Wraen. While part of him wanted to lunge and pin the male to the ground again- just to punish him once more for attacking Sugar Glider- he was reminded that he had a choice. And that he didn't necessarily need to heed the dark instinct which lusted for revenge.

“I remember you,” He said. He struggled to keep himself calm, but he put a great deal of effort into crafting a firm but collected exterior. In stopping so abruptly, he'd squared his posture, so that he was braced and rigid- and presented no indication that he might break from his stronghold. He had the choice, and the chance to dictate how this reunion began- and he chose not to engage mindlessly in another battle that might injure or kill both of them. But it rattled him to look upon the man who had attacked Sugar Glider so ruthlessly. And so, while he would not revive their old battle, he did not give the male any chances to take up their quarrel again either. He turned, still watching Dragomir with a disapproving side-eye, and loped off into the distance.