Sun Mote Copse Caraway Tea

Bronco snorted, and looked at Wraen with his head tilted back, canting his whiskey gaze toward her so he could look at her skeptically out of the corner of his eyes. "Pfft. Old an' cranky? Not likely," He laughed. Wraen wasn't that old, and he hardly figured another year would make that much of a difference, would it? And she certainly wasn't the type who seemed to get cranky easily- she'd put up with him when he was moody and angsty, so he had a hard time thinking she'd get anything but softer as the years went on. 

She asked who might be involved with whatever sort of political uprising he was involved with, and he shrugged one shoulder and clicked his tongue. "You're not askin' me to be a rat, now, are you, Wraen?" He said, teasing her in return. "I wouldn' wanna jeopardize my position 'cause I'm the one what's set to be King," He said, lifting his head slightly as though to bear an imaginary crown.