Moonspear Vienna

Having returned from his patrol-turned-rescue-turned-bearfight, Bronco took the night to rest up, as itèd taken all the strength he'd had to climb the mountain's slope and get back to the crevass that he shared with Meerkat. And for her sake, he tried to put on as brave a face as he could, simply shrugging off his stiffness as travel-weariness. Naturally, he'd fess up not long before falling asleep that he'd had a tangle with a bear- but that he was going to be fine. He just needed some rest- and rest he did. 

It was a pale day when he woke up, the grey skies overhead almost painfully bright, but at least it looked as though the rain might hold off for a bit. He moved to the opening of the crevasse where the mountainside opened up before him, and lay down where it was soft and comfortable. Given the news he'd received from Mal, he sent up his call for @Hydra as he'd promised to do, though his cal was cut short the moment he realized how painful it was to try and howl with bruised ribs. Wincing, he gritted his teeth and attempted to call out again, forcing himself to complete his howl before he fell silent, panting, in the wake of a wave of pain that came from all along the sides of his ribs.

Long-legged strides carried her toward Bronco, whom she had been tracking to start with; Osiris had told her of their encounter with the bear, and Hydra wanted to check in with them to see how he fared since then. When he called, Hydra answered with a song of her own so he could know she was near; when she came upon him, he looked a little worse for wear but fortunately did not look as though he was on deaths door. She felt a rush of relief for that, and perhaps it showed; she sniffed at his furs and detected no trace of infection in the air. 

Have you seen a medic? she inquired firstly, concern lining her features then. She did not know he carried more news with him than just the events of days past, and her utmost concern was his wellbeing.

Bronco's tail waved from side to side as he was inspected, and he reached out to touch his nose to the corner of Hydra's chin to show his appreciation and reassure her that he was alright. He knew better than to pull back or refuse his alpha the right to check him out for injury, so like an obedient pet he stayed still whilst she sniffed through his fur, assuming she might likely get an idea of where he'd been and what he'd been up to over the past couple days. Her first concern, touchingly, was his health- and he was relived that at least whatever traces left in his pelt from Neverwinter were overlooked, at least for a moment, to make sure that he was taking care of himself. 

"Not yet; I sorta just got back," He said, his voice soft so that he didn't have to put too much effort into his speech or exert pressure on his ribs. "Got a couple smacks from a Momma Grizzly- didn't even see her until too late, so that'll learn me." He said with a soft chuckle, though it still made him wince. "Near that lake, just North of here. Was on my way back from Neverwinter Forest;" He said, pausing there just in case Hydra had any more questions or concerns about the whole bear ordeal before getting to the news he had for her.

So this was a different bear then—no wonder Osiris had not recounted to her the true extent of Bronco's injuries, as she saw them here today. Hydra inched closer to him, sniffing once more at the edges of his wound and seeking to see if they had been cleaned, at the very least. Hydra knew the basics from her sister, @Lyra, in case she got into bad sorts herself; it was a necessity, being as violent as she, knowing how to repair some of the damage she would surely receive in turn so that she did not fall victim to infection. The rain seemed to have cleaned most of it for him, fortunately, even if unwittingly. Alright... May I? She inquired, licking her chops, I can clean it more thoroughly, but then I expect you to see Kukutux, she hummed, and though her voice was pleasant enough the look she gave him thereafter meant she wanted no arguments from him on the matter. She would go with him, if it made him feel any better. Hydra had lost one to infection, and she would not see it happen again. 

He was in good spirits about it, earning a chuff from the matriarch who was just glad to see him alive and well. Mothers are the fiercest thing on this earth, I have come to find, she was not speaking solely of herself in this, but explained: there is nothing that we would not do for our family, her ears pricked forward. Bronco was lucky, but evidently skilled enough to get away no worse for wear than how she saw him today. He could have been dead. Bronco was a part of her own family now, and the relief she felt that he was alright was palpable—there was nothing she would not have done to protect him, too, now. 

She had no further questions on that matter; she felt it was rather self-explanatory. Nature was a savage bitch, and the circle of life was as ruthless as she could be. Settling alongside him, Hydra inquired, how was Neverwinter?

Bronco settled down onto the ground quietly, giving Hydra unspoken permission to properly check out his wounds. For the most part, he was lucky to have avoided gett more than a couple puncture wounds from the bear's claws, and some scrapes and scratches- but unlike Minori, he'd not had a great deal of bloodloss. His injuries stemmed mainly from the rather forceful impact of a bear's massive paw to his ribs- twice. He did his best to stay still, but whenever poked, prodded or touched in a sensitive place, his skin would instinctively quiver and twitch- but he avoided giving Hydra a look whenever it happened. It was all too easy for him to give her a side-eye, or to let his lips pull back or lift when injured, but he kept his manners in check and clenched his jaws together, staring straight ahead, to make sure he didn't show signs of insubordination caused from the pain. 

"Moms and Dads," Bronco uttered with a softness that Hydra might not have caught. His mind had wandered, of course, to his father who had died from the injuries he'd sustained while defending the pack. "You're right," He said, a bit louder, so she knew that he did agree, though- that mothers could be terrifying. He'd grown up with one of those, at least, so he knew. He felt protected and safe, with Hydra by his side, though; similar to how he felt when he was with Towhee. 

When she asked about Neverwinter, he lifted his head. Right- the news. "They're doing alright. I ran into one of their packmembers who'd gotten a bit lost, with all the fog, an' I brought her back to her pack. I met Mal, too- seems a nice enough guy. He said there's a pack, though," He said, and turned to gesture toward the East but found himself wincing. "To the East; he says if anyone goes missing...It's prolly because of the "Saints"," He articulated carefully. "An' there's others, in the East, causing trouble too. He seems to think they're unrelated, but..." Bronco said, and shrugged. "You heard of them before, these 'Saints'?" He asked carefully.

Hydra had caught it, and did not take a moment to consider his words. Yes, fathers too, she answered knowingly; there was no question of what Dirge would do if one of their brood was hurt. As he granted her access to inspect his wounds, Hydra informed, I am going to clean the ones that need it, so that he would not be taken by surprise once she did set to the work at hand. He seemed to agree with her point though. Mothers, in the wild, were the ones that oft stuck with their young. Mother bears, cougars—the males, their fathers, would leave as instinct bid. But Dirge was no such father; she knew there might be others out there like him, too, but it was Dirge whose fierceness she recalled when their son was hurt. 

He spoke of the Saints then; no doubt Mal might have been retelling to him what Hua had just shared. The others, though, Hydra wondered about. Were the others who Hydra had been looking for? East—a direction to investigate, at some point. Not now though; her cubs were too young, and she wished to teach those here how to protect, how to fight. Bronco among them. I was recently informed of their existence; Mal aided the wolf that had come to inform me of them. As for the unrelated group, they... I do not recall hearing of, but perhaps I know of some among them, she rejoined darkly, thinking of the wolves she hunted. Vermin were good at finding places to hide, but sooner or later pests were always found. She let them do the work for her, and it seemed to be yielding results at last.  Unrelated for now, though if they are similar in spirit they will surely find kinship, and recognize strength in numbers, eventually. 

Hydra sighed through her nose, looking then to Bronco. If the wolves in that other group are who I believe them to be, then they must be dealt with should they come near. It is time we all begin to train with one another to do what we must, if and when that time comes, she decided, thinking aloud.

"Mkay," Bronco responded softly, turning so that Hydra could clean his wounds, stilling himself for th twinges of pain which would come with every lick. She was gentle enough, though, so he was able to simply grit his teeth and bear with the pain that ensued while she took care of his wounds. He didn't have much to show for having survived an attack from a grizzly, though his thoughts strayed to Minori, who had suffered far worse than he. He might take a trip to Neverwinter with a gift, in a bid to thank her for having saved his life and to check up and make sure she was doing alright as well. 

It would seem that the news he brought had been delivered by another, but it didn't hurt to reinforce the knowledge that there was trouble brewing soewhere to the East, both with these Saints and the other band of trouble-makers. Hydra seemed to think that those two groups would band together, an idea that made Bronco frown. Had the world always been this dangerous? And how could there possibly be two entire packs full of wolves who would be dangerous toward others for no real reason? His mind once again roved back through his memories, and pictured the sight of his father covered in cuts, bites and wounds that were swollen and infected. He'd been attacked by a bad wolf...And it seemed there were more like Kiwi out there in the wilderness. 

She theorized a plan of action out loud and Bronco sat up a bit, considering this to be  decree he ought to know a bit more about. "Who d'you think they are?" He asked. "And...What should we do, if they come? I'll train as much as you need me to," He asked, even though presently, he was in no shape to take on an enemy of any kind.

Wolves that have hurt my family, once, she shared, wolves that I will not allow to do so again, should I be granted the good fortune of finding their whereabouts. Here her tail lashed behind her, and regarded Bronco. One wolf mauled my son; he was a boy. Too young to properly defend himself. Dacio, a packmate, saw it transpire—was able to intervene in time before anything worse could happen... but Dacio did not see that his wounds were treated after, and succumbed to infection, she revealed, but at the heart of it she blamed the nameless raven she-wolf for it. I know she is a young she-wolf with black furs herself, though older than my son, and I know her scent, she informed, and here she described for Bronco the way that wretch smelled. As any other wolf might, but there were strange notes that Hydra's own keen nose could pick up on. Every wolf had a scent that was like a thumbprint; it was an identifier. She has a companion, Merrick, and here Hydra described the appearance of Merrick to him as she had last been told of it. The identifier of his ruddy nape; the hue of his eye. His scent, too, which she had not caught wind of since last he had passed through Neverwinter. She continued, after: and the both seem to enjoy bringing harm to those they deem defenseless. They sound similar to the Saints, she recognized... perhaps they had become one and the same. 

Information came to her, and she absorbed it. The more misdeeds they committed, the more she learned of their nature. It was a nature she was intimately familiar with, but with age came the wisdom on how to reckon with those darker pieces of her own soul that came alive when those she loved were hurt. It was unbearable, the feeling when such a thing happened—intolerable. And unforgivable. Hurting those she loved, protected—it was a fatal error. 

And the threat of it? It would not do. 

Hydra needed no time to consider his next inquiry. Should you see a wolf that threatens you, call for assistance if you are able. These wolves are ones without honor or regard, and we will not grant them such things—not when they are content to harm wolves that have yet to reach adulthood, her muzzle wrinkled in disgust and contempt to think of them, and as for their sentence: if it is within our power, we must kill them before they are given another chance to do so to our family... and with our family, countless others will be saved from their ways. But it is not something you should undertake alone, Bronco, and first and foremost you must recover to train to defend yourself well from their sort. She pictured Merrick and his group (convincing herself that this must be the other group Mal had alluded to...) discovering Bronco as he was now; an easy target, with his bruises and aches and good, kind heart. Hydra looked to him to ascertain that he understood the importance of taking care of himself and healing. The story of Dacio would likely have done that, but if not, perhaps her feelings on the matter would.

Hearing the crimes committed against Hydra's family by wolves who knew no boundaries made Bronco bristle and fume, though he felt something unsettling rise in his chest that caused his heart to beat like a caged bird. He empathized with Hydra, having known the keen pain of seeing a family member succumb, slowly and painfully, to infection. He remembered how he felt the day he saw his cousin attacked by a stranger, pinned to the ground and bitten, and felt a mix of anger and illness cause his stomach to lurch, though he clenched his jaws together to keep the acid from rising in his throat. He felt as though his bruised ribs were squeezing his lungs, causing a dull ache to thrum in the muscles of his abdomen. He was angry that these wolves existed- and while the thought of harming or killing another wolf made him feel queasy, he could not simply stand by while these alleged Saints roamed the free lands, attacking young wolves and ones who could not defend themselves...Ones who had done nothing to invite aggression. Wolves who committed those crimes needed to be punished, if not eliminated. 

Still- he was incredibly relieved when he was told that he was not expected to go on a spree, seeking out and destroying any of the wolves who were described, and felt very reassured when he was told that he was expected, instead, to call for aid should he come upon one of them. While he wasn't comfortable fighting two against one, as it was generally unfair, it seemed to him that their new enemies had already done enough to justify an unfair fight, if they were attacking defenceless wolves. He was also given time to heal, which he would gladly take; part of him even hoped that the Saints would wander away or be chased off before his ribs healed so that he wouldn't have to make any hard decisions, or take part in an execution. 

"I'll do everything I can," He answered quietly, still somewhat lost in thought. "While I heal...I can spend some time with the kids in the pack," He suggested. "I'm...Good with kids," He said softly, with a faint smile. That was something he could do without suffering from a moral dilemma.

He offered no alternatives himself, but what alternatives were there, when others were being tortured? Dying? Idling would only cause such numbers to grow. It was high time to do something about it, but first and foremost Hydra wanted to be sure her ranks could handle such an endeavor. Killing was no easy thing to do, especially when it came to another wolf—not for most. Hydra could not recall whether the first time had been difficult for her... all she could remember thinking in such times was, you will not touch my family. Not now; not ever... or else, ever again. 

Hydra was not an empathetic wolf by any means, but knew the uncertainty that might linger in his heart for such a decree. I wish that I could do it myself, she admitted with a breath, but having family means that we will never have to do the difficult things alone. I trust that you will do everything you can, but if you find you cannot kill them, I do not fault you for it. You have a good heart, Bronco, she knew. It was something simply easy to see. If she taught him one thing, it would be how to not let his good heart kill him. She would be the one to deliver the killing blow, if no one else found it in themselves the ability to do so. Hydra's good heart had hardened the day she had witnessed her sister die. It had further solidified when the wolves she believed to be her friends did not trust their own eyes, and her word, calling her killer innocent. It was wrapped in bulletproof casing and around that, impenetrable iron, when she learned that same wolf had attacked his pregnant sister later on.

How fortunate those children lived.

That was simply the start. Betrayals by wolves she had hoped to be good had turned her good heart into one that was scarcely seen, except for by the wolves that she did care for. They would be the only wolves to know she had any heart at all rather than her simply being an animated corpse, cold and cruel. If that would make you happy, I would like that, she drawled, perhaps you can teach them what you already know; have them demonstrate for you, she offered with a flick of an ear. They did enjoy lessons, now that they could understand them better... and it was always good for them to learn new things. I know of your interests, that he had come here with, in any event, do these things make you happy? As happy as they made her? Hydra loved to fight, to spar, to hunt, to track—what of Bronco? Did he do what he wished, or what he felt was expected of him?

At first, Bronco thought Hydra was going to comment on his lack of conviction and ask that he step up, man up, as his mother would say, and get over his fears. He fully anticipated getting a lecture from Hydra arguing why it was best, sometimes, to make the choice to end a life- and was shocked when she did the opposite. His mouth fell open slightly, but he shut it slowly when she defied his expectations further by telling him he had a good heart. His heart ached to hear those words, in part because he was relieved but also because those words hadn't come from his mother, but from Hydra. Niamh had pinned him down and grabbed him by the throat, nearly strangling him in an effort to make him fight back- and that had been her response to the discovery that her son had a soft heart. Hydra, on the other hand, accepted who he was, and it made him mourn for a childhood he'd never really had. 

He wondered how Hydra had seen through him so easily, and had come to the conclusion on her own that he had issues with taking another wolf's life. Had Towhee perhaps told her about him on one of her last visits? He wouldn't think so...Because Towhee wouldn't have known, the last time she'd visited with Hydra, that he and Meerkat would be joining Moonspear at the beginning of the month. Hydra just had that sort of intuition, he guessed, though he supposed he didn't hide his reluctance well. 

"That, uhm," He said, his voice breaking softly. He cleared his throat. "That means...A lot." He admitted, wrestling with the corners of his lips which jigged and tugged under the swell of emotions. "I...I'd never live with myself, if I knew I let someone go...And they went on to hurt or kill someone I loved," He said, "But...I don't really know how I'd feel knowing I'd killed someone, that had a family and loved ones of their own." He said. "I still need to figure that out, I think." He said. It was a topic he'd discussed at length with Wraen and Towhee, but in the end, he couldn't know exactly how he would act in the heat of the moment. The only idea he had, of a possible outcome, came from the few experiences where he'd had to step up and fight back- and even thinking of those moments in retrospect made him feel ill. 

Fortunately, he'd have a bit of time to do more contemplation, and in the meantime he was encouraged to spend some time with Hydra's youngsters. "They'll have to take it easy on me for a bit," He said, with a soft laugh. "But I'll teach 'em what I know," He said, though he did intend to spend at least some of his time simply playing with the kids, rather than being a strict teacher. He'd have to introduce them to "Broncosaurus," to see what they thought of that. 

It tugged at his heartstrings again to be asked a question he wasn't sure he'd heard much before. Did those things- the tasks he committed himself to- did they make him happy? Generally, he knew there were expectations that he had to meet, ones which had at least in part been influenced by his environment. His mother, the Sergeant-at-Arms for the Firebirds, certainly expected her son to be well versed in self-defense as well as guarding and hunting, but he didn't mind pursuing those interests as, for the most part, it didn't involve going against his nature. "I do," He said, though his tone was unbalanced, a hint that he was still contemplating his decisions. "I think...I like being useful. I think maybe I like to please others? If that makes any sense," He said with a light shrug- though his ribs reminded him not to do much of that. "So like...Hunting, it lets me catch food, and food always makes others- and me- happy. And taking care of kids, like...I dunno. They're just fun, an' every Mom and Dad can use a break, and I don't mind having them chew me to bits, hangin' off my ears and screaming in my face, so I'm happy to help out with watching them. Patrolling the borders I like, 'cause sometimes I meet some really cool wolves...I think I'm just afraid sometime that I'll have to hurt someone. An' I've done it before, an' I like sparring, but I kind of...Agh, I'm talking too much," He said, with an apologetic laugh.

The matriarch could not have known just how spot on she was in reference to the way he was thinking; she was not empathetic to feel as he did, though she had a brilliant intuition. But what she did know was that killing was a thing that would not come easily to Bronco. She had an eye for that sort of stuff... those sorts of wolves. It was something that could be taught, but never forced... and Hydra would not force him to. To be sure, Hydra would be rought with him too in their lessons out of necessity—he needed to be prepared for those sorts of assaults. But by ways of killing, well, she would do that herself until he was ready to do so. 

Hydra listened to him explain, considering a moment. These were things Hydra had not thought of, nor had she let herself think much on it. She had killed plenty, but never wondered about what their own life was like. She did not let the thought form in full, and answered, why? They have no regard for you, or your own. And once they are finished with you, you are no longer keeping them from the rest. Wolves such as you and I... we do not kill because we can, we kill because we must. The wolves that I speak of going against—they are indiscriminate in that. And that is why we must, when it comes to that sort, she explained. So that others will not meet the fate they hope to mete. But we will not do so alone; in this, we will stand together. If you come across them, and you cannot kill them, incapacitating them would be enough until someone could aid you. And I will teach you how to avoid them doing the same to you, she supplied. 

Hydra paused. I made an error, once—I let a wolf live because others thought he might be innocent. I saw with my own eyes, my sister pass, I saw him run from her body. I could have killed him, and I ought to of. But they thought that there was good in him, somewhere. She was a child, and he ran from her still warm body. If he did not kill her, he could have called—there might have been a chance. But he knew he did, he knew what he had done, and he ran. But your instinct, it tells you the truth of things. Of a wolf, of their nature. I looked at him, and I knew him for who he was. A coward, who could only kill defenseless children, she recalled with a grimace. I should have killed him, and I had an opportunity to. I stole his eye instead; my friends wished to give him the benefit of the doubt, and even though I knew the truth... I would not kill him either. I wanted to, but I also wondered if he could live with himself. If that sort of wolf could change, She licked her chops and looked to Bronco. He later in life went on to attack his pregnant sister, and to join the Blackfeather wolves who, at the time, had a reputation for stealing wolves, maiming senselessly, and the like. Towhee and your mother sought to kill him, once they discovered this, and drove him over a cliff. She looked to him now, and sighed. For myself, it was harder to live knowing the atrocities that were committed by my own decision to spare a wolf for hope of change. Wolves like that, she drawled, are broken. And there is only one way to repair that sort of internal break. 

Galaxy would never return to her, but others would live yet for his (presumed) death. 

Ideally, he truly was dead. But Hydra knew that the real monsters were terribly hard to kill, cowardly or not. Only the good died young, after all. 

Hydra shifted toward the topic of her young with Bronco, and she grinned. I can make no promises, she teased in a hum. They did enjoy greeting with their teeth sometimes, especially interesting newcomers. As far as the rest? You are talking just enough. You and I are similar, she drawled, others happiness makes us happy. It is important that our family be healthy and happy both; hunting is a passion of mine, too... and running, she revealed, thinking of her love for the chase... and to watch children is a great responsibility. It is no easy task, either, when they wish to play 'escape artist', she hummed.

It seemed that Hydra did not see their enemies the way he did- and made him realize that perhaps he'd fallen into the habit of giving others too much of the benefit of the doubt. He thought he was doing the right thing by believing that somewhere, within every wolf, there was something inherently, innately good, and that they it would cause pain to someone who was potentially a very good, kind wolf if they should be killed in a fight. He failed to see that there were only two sides- a good side and a bad side- when it came to fights, and had figured that everyone had a story...And that the narrative shaped a bias. He tried to avoid having a bias, but was now learning that it was alright to take a side- and that wolves like him and Hydra, they were right. They were good. These Saints? They were bad. He found it hard to believe that he should have to label wolves so quickly, but...If Hydra was right, then he couldn't simply give second chances to those who might go on to cause more damage. 

"I...Don't think I ever heard it put that way. That we fight because we must, and that others, they fight just...Because they want to, or because they can. It's just wrong, that wolves like that exist," He sighed ruefully. Why couldn't they simply live and let live? Leave others well alone if they didn't like strangers, but there was absolutely no reason for a pack of wolves to go about attacking strangers for no reason. 

He was quiet and sympathetic when Hydra told him the story of a wolf she'd once let go, and the regret she seemed to feel having given him that chance. She lost her sister to whoever this wolf was, who then went on to attack a pregnant sister...And when Hydra explained about Towhee and Niamh, he clued in, and recognized bits and pieces of the story. It wasn't one told at length- and his mother'd never really answered his questions, and had often gotten quite cold whenever certain things were mentioned. He'd seen a cliff before, and had seen the way his mother stared off into the angry ocean beyond, as though accusing it of something. It must've been the same wolf, then. An enemy they shared. 

"It's...Not your fault, though." He said, softly. He knew he couldn't say much to make her feel better, and that it wouldn't bring her sister back. But at least, he felt she shouldn't carry around the guilt. "It was his choice to be a coward. And his choice to go on and attack another wolf. That's not on you; you can't control what someone does, whenever they leave your sight." He said. "But...I understand having...Feelings, knowing that he made bad choices after you tried to give him a chance. I'm sorry, Hydra, that's a lot of tough stuff to deal with. But for what it's worth...I think you're doin' a pretty good job of what you're doin'," He supplied a slight shrug, and a faint, but optimistic smile. These regrets she voiced were things that he feared, and knew that he too would struggle with, should he ever be put in a similar position. 

It flattered him to think that Hydra found their sentiments to be similar; he aspired to be a wolf who could pass judgement, feel regrett, acheive leadership but also be humble enough to talk about past failures, guilty feelings and hard topics with the younger members of the pack in an attempt to steer them in the right direction. She wasn't forcing his hand, she was guiding it. And she, unlike his mother, seemed to recognize that minding the children wasn't something that was in any way emasculating, but challenging. "Yeh, they get pretty fast pretty quick. Even more interesting when there's more'n a couple of them. How many kids do you have, Hydra?" He asked.

I agree, she answered in earnest. Hydra hated to know that they did. But Bronco would hear so for himself, soon enough, she was certain. And perhaps see it, though she hoped he would not be victim of it, which is why I fight, and why I am so eager to train my family to know how. So they need not look over their shoulder in fear, she hummed. And she quieted, listening to Bronco now. 

He made good points. 

It was not her fault. Hydra once blamed herself, but now rest the blame upon the shoulders of those that had never acted. Those that had judged her for the things she had done, in the name of justice—and she had given him more than he deserved, that he breathed still once she was finished with him. But had she done the right thing, the responsible thing... had she cared less for their opinions of her... so much trouble could have been prevented. 

Hydra looked to him when he commended her. He could not know it, but it meant much to her. Bronco had a good, selfless heart. He was young, younger perhaps than Rannoch and Terance and Liffey and Wraen had been when they had all made their judgment of her, and stamped monster to her name. How was it that he had a better understanding of this, of her, than her own friends had? Well, two of them had been her friends. The rest... 

I thank you, for thinking so, she hummed, all that I can ever do is my best—and for you, my family, my pack... it is all I will ever try to do, her ears twitched atop her crown. Such things might be cruel and terrible, but if that meant their safety, nothing and no one would stop her. Not anymore. 

As the topic shifted to children, Hydra hummed, eight—though this litter, four. And Kukutux has had two, this year, she informed, plenty of children for you to look after and keep you busy, I think, she grinned at that.

Thanks for the thread! Still just tidying up his injury threads in an attempt to keep him updated heh.:)

It seemed that Hydra, for all her strength, poise and courage, truly cared about those she loved most. Above all else, it seemed that family was most important to her, and that nothing harmful would become of someone she trusted and loved so long as they stayed within her good graces...And doing so, to Bronco, seemed relatively simple. She wasn't a hard wolf to get along with, and he could see why she and Towhee got along so well. While the mountain lifestyle was tiring, and he was in a good deal of pain from the bear attack, he was glad that he'd chosen to move to Moonspear with Meerkat. 

He yawned, when she spoke of the plethora of young children and he smiled. "I'd think so. It was busy enough just trying to watch after four kids let alone six," He chuckled. He stretched; he didn't want to usher Hydra out, but he was exhausted, and needed his rest so he could recover. He felt certain she would understand. "Ugh. I gotta have a nap. Rest relax an' recover, y'know. But...Thanks for stopping by, Hydra, and thanks for the talk," He said, reaching out to gingerly touch his nose to her cheek in appreciation, before he settled down to relax and let his muscles heal.