Redhawk Caldera sweet little lady sings like a songbird

His voice was light, his words lilted with apprehension that Bronco suspected stemmed from respect, and perhaps a bit of inexperience. Bronco took this all in stride with a reassuring nod of his head. ”Not a trouble at all,” He said kindly, hoping to set the yearling at ease. This was a gentle place, for gentle wolves. 

He didn’t bristle, or frown, but Bronco felt uncomfortable in what looked like an appreciative gaze. He thought himself a dreadful thing to look at- and he was unnerved by the way the yearling seemed fascinated, impressed by his scars. Of course, he didn’t know that not all the scars were war wounds, earned saving loved ones or defending the borders. He couldn’t know to see just how many of those wounds had been inflicted by someone else who took so much pleasure in his pain. 

He’d forgive him for his stare, though. Call it naivety. 

”I might be able to help you with that, I’ve been around this area for a while. What’s your Mom’s name?” He asked. He tried to search his memories for a possible mother, and his features brightened slightly. ”Are you, by any chance- either a Blackthorn or a Redhawk?” He asked. Sugar Glider hadn’t been a part of the Red Hawks- but there was still a possibility that perhaps this was one of hers.