Ghost Lion Crag it's the rest of a stump; it's a little alone

As soon as the name left his lips he regretted it though he doubted that he might even be heard, until his son turned toward the sound of his name. Bronco felt both yearning and despair to see that his son had grown, maturing over the months into a fine young adult. It was the marker of time that he’d missed- time he would never get back. That his son was able to see him at all felt like both a godsend and a curse. 

He waited for realization to hit, wondering still if news had reached him yet, and by the way he spoke, it seemed doubtful. He panicked, wondering in that moment if his son would realize something amiss- and find out that his father had died from a ghost. 

He paused, when Killdeer spoke his name. It felt odd to hear his son avoid saying the word “Dad” though he supposed in this case it was only because he wanted to make sure he knew who he was talking to. 

”Uh, yeah,” He said, with a nod. For a second, he wondered if he’d be dragged down into the underworld for lying to his son. ”I’m Coltan,” He’d used the name before as an Alias to protect his family from the strangers who had hunted him. 

He felt something pinch within his chest. He fought back the glistening sheen of tears that begged to fall. ”Dad told me lots about you; he talks…” the tense was wrong- but he had to roll with it. He hadn’t even come to terms with using past tense for himself yet anyway. ”About you all the time! Says he calls you Varmint,” He said. Part of it was the truth- his children did know of their older brother, but it was not likely they would know the sight of him. ”Are you…Comin’ to visit?” He asked, his ears flicking forward. It felt odd to have two, full ears; he felt grateful that in death, all of his injuries had been forgotten. He shrugged a shoulder reluctantly. ”I, uh, could use some help finding my way back.” 

Another lie. But if there was nothing else he could do…Maybe he could help his son connect with his younger siblings.