Firefly Glen you were a child crawling on your knees toward him.

The relaxed nature of his adversary bothered bothered him, stinging like a foxtail pricking into the skin between his toes. He refused to answer the question he was charged with, which spoke volumes to Bronco of just how little Penn actually cared about Fennec. He might have redeemed himself somewhat if he'd offered information or expressed some sort of concern- as it was, Bronco was left believing that Penn either didn't care what had happened to Fennec, or he knew something. And if there was anything he knew, Bronco was going to squeeze it out of him. 

Figment's tone of voice caused the fur along the back of Bronco's neck to bristle but he didn't remove his gaze from Penn's smirking face. It irked him to hear Figment try and talk him down and assert authority; these were the borders of Bronco's pack, after all. But with his ire focused on Penn, he didn't take the time to snap at Figment for butting in. Instead, he squinted slightly at Penn when he insisted he feared neither pain nor death. He hadn't thought it possible for Penn to get any more arrogant than he'd been the last time Bronco had seen him; but Bronco had learned something since then. After having sparred with Opalia, he'd left the experience armed with a trick up his sleeve; reserved only for last-ditch efforts. He figured Penn deserved it. 

So with a brief shift in his weight, he picked up one of his hind feet and stomped it down where he was hoping Penn's family jewels would be and leaned his weight into it, bellowing into his cousin's face. "WHERE IS SHE?"