Heron Lake Plateau is meatball an fruit

The impromptu fib backfired almost instantly. Tegan jumped in to correct her and Bat looked at him, expression inscrutable, though she seemed to come back to herself when he nudged her. She frowned apologetically, then shot him a grateful look before facing Quixote again. Once more, she blanked, not sure what to say. How had she dug a hole so quickly? She either needed to stop lying... or get much better at it.

"No, nothing like that," Bat managed after a moment, shooting him an earnest smile. "In exchange for letting me live here and train with Tegan, I'm expected to contribute in other ways to earn my keep. That's what they told me," the youth lied quickly. "And, uh, what I plan to do, of course." She paused. "Drageda—my moms—don't expect anything in return." Well, that was true enough.

As Bat lapsed into silence, awaiting Quixote's judgment, she wondered what'd happen if Wildfire and eventually Thuringwethil discovered this little foray. Although it was difficult thinking about either of them, she couldn't help but muse that it would probably take them both so much by surprise that she might not even get into trouble. And if she ran with this same story—that it benefited the relationship between the packs—Bat might get away with it all, in the end...

But she didn't want to (and couldn't) dwell on that distant possibility. Right now, Bat needed to focus on her imminent future as a Redhawk. She shot Tegan a sideways grin as if to ask how she'd done, then literally crossed the toes on both forepaws as her attention drifted back to the Alpha. Ceara and Caiaphas had faded into the background, the latter's quiet departure totally unnoticed.