Big Salmon Lake And through the night, so it seems I'm not breathing
Ghost
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Ooc — Jess
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#17
His ears perked at the sound of his name, and he chuckled into the goose's feathers, smacking his lips a bit and gulping down what he had in his mouth. He shook his head, eyes glistening. "Nah. My parents gave me that, kind of after my Dad whose name was Colt," He said. At least he was getting better at being able to talk about his Dad without getting too sad now. Perhaps it was because he was tired of his tone inviting in more questions. Instead, he kept the topic relatively light-hearted. "I prolly kicked when I was inside Mom lots, though, so I bet I earned it somehow." He said. 

She mentioned her own father, one who seemed quite knowledgeable when it cam to hunting birds. "So...You did a lot of birdhunting growing up then, huh?" He asked. It interested him to learn more- as he enjoyed hunting partridges and pheasants especially. They were a good sized-bird, enough for a good snack, and they also had pretty feathers. Unlike the geese, of course, they didn't have broad, strong wings and a wedge-like beak at the end of a long, whip-like neck. "I don't think I ever seen anyone catch a dove," He admitted softly, hoping he might prompt a bit of a story from Zsuzsa. He'd seen plenty of doves before- particularly the pale-brown mounring doves and the slate coloured ring-necked doves. They'd sit side by side, fat little creatures with disarmingly pretty eyes, and coo softly once the morning light began to creep in through the trees...But he'd never known how to catch one. Nor had he ever noticed how they sunbathed in the dust on the ground- so he had some learning to do. 

He was tearing a bit of meat out of the bird when she asked about his fight again, and it let go just as she punctuated her question. "Whoops," Bronco said, brushing a bit of blood splatter from his cheeks. "But no, nah, it wasn't on pack lands. My friend, she's a travelling medic, so she'd go from pack to pack, helpin' others out," He said. "She's a real gooder. Her name's Sugar Glider, in case you ever meet her." He said. He drew in a breath. "I heard a commotion one day while I was out scouting, an' found her pinned down by some...Guy who looked like he was...I dunno. He had her pinned, and she's tiny, an' she's not the kind to pick a fight, so I bowled him over and pinned him down, make him see what it feels like." He said. It'd been the first time he'd really been able to summon the courage to potentially hurt someone- but he'd let the male go once he'd realized how close he was to actually killing him. He shrugged. "I don't like hurtin' others. But I like it even less when wolves I care about're getting hurt."
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RE: And through the night, so it seems I'm not breathing - by RIP Bronco - October 18, 2020, 11:29 AM