Sun Mote Copse They will feign an expression of sadness
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Bronco tried to rid himself of the horrible feeling of grief, but he found he couldn't. He was angry and hurt, and couldn't help but resent Elfie a great deal. He stalked his way back to his Dad's grave and placed the somewhat dishevelled flower back on his Dad's grave where it belonged. He didn't stay there for long, though. Sugar had followed him- but he'd eventually told her he wanted to be alone, and had carried on in his own path. It took him a while to gain some control over his feelings, which were all over the place, and very confusing. All he knew was that he felt bad and he wasn't sure how to fix it. He went back to the den, though, and slumped to the ground inside.
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It wasn't unusual for her son to be in a foul mood whenever she crossed paths with him. With his friends he seemed so happy, playful and child-like, but he seemed to darken whenever she crossed his path, like a kid who's been told to do too many chores. When she saw him moping his way back to the den, though, it was clear that whoever had crossed his path earlier had not impressed him much. Niamh was concerned- so she followed him. And he was in such a funk, he didn't even seem to be aware that someone was stalking him, albeit walking 20 metres behind him. 

She entered the den and saw him sprawled on the ground, looking very downtrodden. She moved in and sat down, looking down at her moody boy, and tilted her head to the side. Her natural reaction, to try and cheer someone up, was to pick at them. "Hey kiddo. Why the long face?"
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Bronco's head lifted slightly when he finally heard someone approached the den and saw their shadow lean into the entrance, but as soon as he realized who it was, he sank back to the ground and heaved a reluctant sigh. Great- his Mom was home, and she was probably going to preach to him. Then again- he had wanted to snitch on Elfie...It would feel so good to do it- but he wanted attention, so when she playfully interrogated him, he didn't answer for a moment. 

The real truth was that he was honestly hurting. He wasn't pretending just so he could get his Mom's sympathy, though he did want it. He was a bit ruffled at her question, though, and some of his bitterness from earlier was still eating away at him. He lifted his head and looked at her with a troubled gaze, and hoarsely whispered, with trembling lips. 

"Dad's dead, Mom." He said.
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And there it was. 

Niamh's smile froze, and then disappeared suddenly. She'd tried talking to Bronco about his Dad's death, but he hadn't wanted to do so. He'd changed the topic, slyly avoiding dealing with the hurt she knew he felt. He seemed more keen on covering it up and avoiding her, so that he didn't have to answer her questions, or face the fact that she too was hurting. Like Bronco, Niamh had been burying her feelings, as neither of her children seemed to want to open up to her, or move forward from a state of denial. It seemed as though it was finally sinking in to Bronco...The same way she was finally beginning to accept the hard truth herself. 

She sank down to the floor, and reached out to touch Bronco, though she was fully prepared for him to pull away. "I know sweetheart," She said, softly. How was she supposed to have this conversation with her son? She'd tried before- but she hadn't known what to say, or what to ask- and he'd turned away from her every time. "I know. And I miss him," She said, her voice hitching, before she fell silent. "And I know you miss him too, hmm?" She said, her voice thick with sadness.
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He wasn't ready for this. He hadn't been ready for his Dad to die, and he wasn't ready to confront the hurt that came with knowing he would never see his Dad again. But it had to happen at some point, and he'd been pushing it back, putting it off for long enough, and had reached his breaking point. When his Mom spoke, he trembled for a moment, and began to cry. He felt like there would never be an end to the pain he felt, like things couldn't possibly go back to anywhere near normal. Needing reassurance more than he ever had before, he moved forward to curl into a ball by his mother's side, pressing his face into her shoulder and weeping there for quite some time before he was finally able to think again. 

"I just want him to come back," He said bitterly. "I wanna see him again," he pleaded, looking up at his Mom with shimmering eyes, as though there was some way she might be able to make that happen. After all, she was his Mom- Moms were supposed to be able to do everything, weren't they?
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Finally, Niamh felt like she found a connection with Bronco. As he curled up against her, she curled around him and held him tight, grieving alongside her son, relishing in how good it was not only to hold him, but to have him want to be held by her. For all the times he'd mouthed off and pushed her away, it was so reassuring to know that in the end, deep inside, he still knew she was his Mom, and that he could lean on her for strength. Right now, she had very little strength to offer- but he seemed content to lean against someone who needed to lean back against him just as much. 

"It's OK, Bronc. I know it hurts...It hurts so much," She crooned, her tears wetting the fur on the top of his head, where his dorsal stripe began. "He's...He's not in any pain, and you know he still loves you, so much. And that I love you, so so much," She said. He didn't answer her, likely because he wasn't ready to. When he spoke, his words nearly broke her heart. 

"I...I know, Bronc. I really want to see him too," She said, her voice turning into a mere squeak at the end, as her sorrow pinched her vocal chords. "I wish he could come back and be with us. It's not fair that he's gone," She said, and reached out to nuzzle his cheek, wiping away his tears, though his cheek was so wet, there wasn't much she could do. "He's...He's in a good place, though. You know that," She said. "Here would be better, for us..." She reasoned, before trailing off. She felt a flash of anger and spite, once more directed toward Kiwi- but there was nothing she could do about her. Not until she found her again.
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He nodded dumbly in response to what his Mom said, and leaned against her muzzle as she touched his cheek, but he froze when she mentioned his Dad being in a good place. He remembered what Elfie said, and he clenched his jaws together. He fixated on that, and suddenly began to stare with a steely, angry look straight at the den's wall. He felt his Mom looking at him strangely, aware of the sudden shift in energy he was experiencing, and he let it all out. 

"Elfie, Mom." He croaked. "Sugar put a flower on Dad's grave. An' Elfie picked it up an' chucked it in the bushes." He complained angrily. His mother looked shocked, and made to question him if that was the truth, but he simply gave her a look that said enough. "He did, Mom. He did it. He said there's no point in doin' that. He said he'd put a chewed-off dead deer's head on Dad's grave an' it'd be just the same as putting a flower there," He said, something akin to panic easing into his voice. "An' he said nobody goes anywhere good when they die, an' he'd dug up a fox you killed an' looked at its parts an' said that was the same as Dad bein' buried, and it makes no difference, putting a flower on the grave." He said. "He did, Mom, I swear," He said, begging her to believe him.
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She expected her son to stay soft for a while, and simply spend their time together grieving together. But when he stared at the wall, his little face screwed up and tight with focus, she tilted her head, and questioned him, murmuring "Bronco?' quietly, to tease him into saying what was on his mind. 

She didn't get it at first. What did Elfie have to do with this, and why was he bringing his cousin/nephew/however they were related up? Her mouth fell open when he told her the story, though, and she immediately shook her head and went to stop him from telling a fib when he assured her with such hurt conviction that she was actually led to believe him. The details he brought up...Were heartbreaking. "He didn't..." She murmured, but her son continued. There was no way he'd make something like this up. She had to believe her son. 

And truthfully, Elfie had begun to push buttons, to assert himself and to question authority. He was a young teenager, and she shouldn't have expected him to be perfectly behaved- but he was a wolf with a soul, still- and this act was absolutely soulless. Coming from one of Eljay's kids? Such behavior was unbelievable, and Niamh felt intensely slighted by Elfie's actions. She wanted to pin the boy down and make him squeal until he begged for mercy as punishment. Her steely gaze promised that she would do as much if she walked out the den right then and there. But he was still Eljay's son- and she couldn't morally punish someone else's kid that way...Or could she?

She shook her head. "Oh Bronc...I can't believe that. He said all that to you?" She asked, and he affirmed his statements vehemently. She sighed and shook her head, as she sat up. "I can't believe it. But if it's the truth, what he did was horrible. I'm....I can't even, right now," She said, gritting her teeth together. She tried to pull herself back into sweet Mom mode, but found it nearly impossible. She shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Bronc," She said. "But I'm going to fix this. And I'm going to teach that kid a lesson," She said darkly. She reached out again, and touched Bronco's cheek. "I'm sorry, kiddo. And you're right to be angry with him. I'm angry with him too." She said. "I'll be having a word with his father," Niamh said, still horrified that Elfie would say such things, especially considering the fact that he had lost one of his parents too.
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Bronco nodded feverishly. "He did, Mom, he did," He said, his voice cracking as he finally lost his composure and began to break down. This was the crux- and if his mother took Elfie's side, he would never forgive her for it. He hated Elfie- he felt betrayed, he felt angry, and he felt...Sad. At the very heart of the situation, Elfie had plucked an extremely sensitive chord that Bronco had been doing his best to hide away, keeping it out of sight from anyone who went looking at it. At the end of the day, what Elfie had done had been to remind Bronco that his Dad was dead- that he was gone, and that he was never coming back. That putting flowers on his grave...Well, they would be flowers that looked nice, but Colt would never see them. He wouldn't see how gently and kindly Sugar had placed them there, nor the way that she seemed keen on removing them once they'd wilted and replacing them with fresh, happy, new ones. Colt couldn't see how nice Sugar was being. He couldn't even see how horrible Elfie was being. He couldn't step in to put Elfie in his place, to tell him off for making his son upset, or to teach him a lesson. Colt couldn't do any of those things- and it hurt Bronco to know that, and to truly feel it. 

His mother seemed to be a bit torn at first...But he could tell that she, too, was hurt. He could se her jaw clench, and he felt warm knowing that there was some form of solidarity between the two of them. Niamh felt it too- she felt just as offended as he'd been, and she looked almost as angry, though he could tell she was holding a lot back. There was a hoarse throatiness to her voice that spoke volumes; his Mom was not happy with this situation whatsoever, and it made him respect her- and even fear her a bit- knowing that she could potentially go savage on Elfie if he pushed her the wrong way. It pleased him to be reassured that his Mom was going to teach Elfie a lesson, to knock him down a few pegs, and he hoped that she was able to make him squeal and cry and beg for mercy. That was just how much he resented the boy for making him feel the way he had. Bronco snuggled against his mother, relaxing against her soft side, reveling in the knowdlege that at the end of the day- even though he did have a mean Mom- at least there would be days where his mean Mom would be on his side- and that she could direct her wrath at any enemies he might find. 

"Okay," He huffed softly. He would spend the next hour or so, continuing to reiterate the story- venting his frustrations to his mother who empathized with him on each and every point. They didn't see eye to eye on much, but what Bronco realized then, was the fact that at the end of it all- for all the times they butted heads and argued and fought- they did share a very strong love not only for each other, but for the family they had- broken or not.