Big Salmon Lake And through the night, so it seems I'm not breathing

She told him of her father, who had seemingly learned his own hunting tactics from a bobcat- which was an interesting method to say the least. Had he managed to do so without the bobcat getting intimidated or irritated with being watched? It turned out to be a successful endeavour though, when he was both able to lear the techniques for himself and pass them down to his daughter. Bronco's heart ached for a moment; he wished he'd had a story like that to share about his own father. "Your Dad, he sounds like a pretty smart guy," He said softly, as he focused back on his goose for a few minutes to keep him from settling too deeply into thoughts about his own father. 

She asked him again about the male he'd fended off, and he nodded. "Ran off once I let him go. Never seen him again but...I think I'd know him if I saw him." He admitted. "Dark wolf, all black fur, prolly about my age...But he had a sort of...Pinkish nose. Yellowish eyes." He said, and started tearing into the goose again. He shrugged, a moment later, after he'd swallowed what he'd had in his mouth. "I don't expect to see him again. Not sure what I'd be expected to do." He admitted. He'd saved Sugar Glider from him- but if he happened to come across the dark-pelted young male, simply minding his business out in the woodlands, what then? Should he attack him again to punish him further, or should he pin him down to interrogate him? There was no way the other male wouldn't recognize Bronco- as he'd been the one to rake his fangs across the bridge of his muzzle, leaving behind very recognizeable markings.