Sun Mote Copse Oh Heartland, Up Yours

Already, Bronco had learned the difference between his parents- at least, the most important differences that effected him directly. Now that he could see, he could tell them apart not only by their scent but by their looks. Dad was bigger, and darker, and had a different shape to his face that made him seem so grand to little Bronco. Still, despite all the curves that his mother had when compared to his father's angles, he associated the softness of his mother's looks with the rigidity of rules. Though others might have seen Colt and assumed immediately that he was more of an authoritative figure than his sylphlike mother, Bronco knew otherwise. So when he saw his Dad approaching, he lowered his front end and wiggled his stubby tail furiously behind him. If it was Mom, he'd be in trouble. But this was Dad. Dad was cool. 

Better yet was the fact that he'd brought something with him- something that had strange fur that ruffled in the breeze, and didn't look like a wolf at all. Its neck was very long, and its eyes so small- and rather than having a muzzle it had this strange, dark hard thing on its face- if that was even its face. His father dropped it and came toward him, stretching, but Bronco was, for a moment, very distracted by the odd creature his father had brought home. 

Colt's tone wasn't angry, threatening, high-pitched or loud...He spoke with the same low, calm tone he always spoke with, and Bronco had already learned that that meant he wasn't in trouble. The smile on his face told Bronco he was going to get away with it this time. When he was nudged, Bronco rolled over onto his back and opened his mouth, uttering a rumbly little tenor "Rrrrrrurrrrurrrurrrr!" As he reached for his Dad's muzzle with his front feet. He harmlessly clamped his little mouth shut a few times, as though snapping- an indication that he wanted to play and rough-house with his Dad.