Moonspear I've become a simple souvenir of someone's kill

Bronco blushed, chuckled, and bowed his head. Perhaps he should have thought more about the introduction he wanted to give this place, but he was quick to roll with her jousting words, and rolled one shoulder in a shrug. "I dunno, maybe someday we'll do spars where you havta fight with one foot lifted up, or...Put a buncha thornbush branches in here to make the footing trickier- make it worth having an audience," He chuckled, eyed glimmering with mischeif. "But truth be told- I could probably learn a lot just by watchin' how others spar...An' it might be handy for the kids too, havin' them watch how the adults spar," He said, ears perking a bit. After all, the youth were brought along to watch how hunts were done- why not do the same with spars? Her question had likely just been in jest- hypothetical- but Bronco found it helped to work out those extra little detals out loud, so he was grateful to have the chance to come up with yet another reason to use the small crater.

Still, she seemed game. Casucally, he nodded, and in dramatic seriousness he but a thoughtful look on his features. "Make sure it's safe for the others, hmm," He agreed, sounding like an overstuffed politician talking about something he had no idea about. The yearling turned a gaze as gentle as a lamb's to Opalia, and offered her a reassuring, kindly smile, his tail waving behind him. "We can go at whatever pace you'd like. We can spar to pin, or use the no-blood rule, or just see how you feel as we go," He said, always accomodating, especially toward pretty women. He stepped back and squared himself, dipping his head respectfully. "Ladies first," He invited, but not without a coyote-ish smile.