Neverwinter Forest He's always playing with a light

Bronco frowned lightly, and nodded. He was quiet for a few moments, consiering their shared appreciation for how hard life really was. Maybe he should have figured it out from a younger age, having lost his Dad so young, that life would never pardon even the kidnest of wolves from an untimely death. "I guess I wish someone told me that when I was younger," He said, scoffing shortly thereafter at his own words. He wasn't even old enough to say something like that, was he? He was old enough to be an orphan and have a child of his own, after all. "Probably wouldn'a listened," he mumbled with a shrug. 

The longevity of the Redhawks was pretty damn impressive, even with losing members, floods, bears, and moving from one territory to the next. It'd taken the determination of several wolves to make it continue and he couldn't help but feel like its downfall was at least in part due to his mother's ailing condition. Naturally, it was a guilt he bore like a leaden shawl. 

"Yeah. I think...When it was strongest, it was the combination of Towhee, Phox an' Niamh that did it. The sheer willpower of those three," He said, before something rueful entered his voice. He shrugged. "Mom was never the same after Primrose died." He admitted.