Broken Antler Fen She hangs her head and cries on my shirt

When you imagine friendship that has lasted for decades (or years in wolf sense), you think that you've reached such a level of mutual understanding that nothing will ever come between you. But then silly arguments happen - usually start with something small and end up with both of you feeling flustered and thinking that the other party is an idiot. What's worse - you realize that this stuff could be avoided altogether, by letting the other party vent (because often, what pisses them off is not the obvious thing, but something in the background) and not be provoked yourself. It comes a little as a shock in the beginning and it takes two three times to realize, which subjects you should never discuss at all, because of differing opinions. 

Wraen often looked back, trying to dissect, how exactly her last meeting with Bronco had gone from amiable to sour, and she had come to a conclusion that: first, she had overstepped boundaries and poked, which had been no business of hers. Second - she had grown tired of being everyone's empathic "shoulder to cry on" over the years. Rather than listening to a lengthy prelude of all that had gone wrong in the other person's life, she wanted to get the business done as swiftly at possible. She had been sick, tired and worried about Maia's well-being and the recent events surrounding Arcturus. Bronco had invited her into his problems, not once asking, how she herself had been doing at the time. She would not have minded the latter, had he not insulted her first. So - in her mind all was even. And she had come to a healthy conclusion of never meddling in other people's business again. For her own sake and sanity. 

When she heard his voice calling for her from the borders, she had hesitated a little to join him there right away. In part, because she did not know, what to expect now - had he come to set things straight? Tell something more, of what she did not know about herself already? Unload more problems on her? It was ironic really, that, while he had not presented himself in person, she had forgiven him in her mind. Brushed everything off as a mature adult should have. Now, however, when she was invited to meet him, that resentment sparked up anew. Her petty self was not sure, if it wished to mend things again, though in the grand scheme of things losing a friend over a stupid argument, when neither had been in their right mind, seemed stupid. Therefore - unwillingly - she went and upon nearing the meeting place, she was glad that Maia had intercepted him first. Started off on a good note. Because she really did not know, what to tell him.

 She let them chat for a bit, while remaining unseen herself, then, when it felt right and she ready, Wraen came into the view, offered Maia a fond look, then her gaze met with Bronco's, few degrees colder. "You're not a face we've seen in a while," she remarked idly. "Life's treating you well, I hope?" she asked.