Redhawk Caldera In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree

Something he'd felt before reared its ugly head when she purposefully avoided, once again, offering him any sort of consolation or encouragement. He felt wronged, somehow, to be treated like this. He'd done what was in their best interest- and still ended up feeling as though she felt she was the victim. It felt hypocritical, with her being as firm as she was. She'd run off before, and had chosen to do so- but he hadn't crucified her for it. He'd gone looking, and had done what he could to bring her back. He didn't blame her for not going to search for him- she had Killdeer to take care of- but still, it felt like she wanted him to feel bad about what had happened.

 He thought ruefully that she might understand a bit better if she had been the one who had been abducted, abused, and then chased down mercilessly. But he felt bad immediately for even thinking that it might at least give her perspective- he wouldn't have wished that experience on anyone. 

So he was a bit absent when she called out, and within seconds, a young fellow emerged that was nothing like what Bronco remembered. This creature had the same markings, true, but in every other way he had changed- the promise of potential so vivid in the lustre of his coat and gleam of his eyes. He posed a question in a voice so eversweet and youthful that it caused a pain to spread through his chest. 

Part of him wanted to just say he was a friend of his mother's, and then discreetly wander off into the night. He didn't deserve to have a son like this. His self esteem, which had been dubious at best, was now almost completely shattered. Were it not for the firm, intimidating presence of Fennec, Bronco might have done just that. As it was, she'd already made him feel like he had chosen to run off and desert them, and that he now owed them greatly. If he lied...He'd likely regret it for the rest of his life which wouldn't be long. 

He was bold, like his mother, and it intimidated him to see, knowing that perhaps he'd missed the window to potentially temper any inclination he might have toward becoming a warrior like his mother. The thought of seeing his son get in fights, get hurt, risk his safety or worse terrified him. He'd not really had the time to consider how much fear came hand in hand with becoming a parent- but he began to realize it now. 

He wasn't fit to smile, or meet his son's bravado with the pride he should have felt when he saw how healthy he looked. He was overwhelmed, and it likely showed in how blank his expression became. "Well, Killdeer," Came his dry and ragged voice, "I'm your father."