Heron Lake Plateau you're gonna go far, kid

attn: any littermates! but she's looking for @Fiadh

Clover had been through her own period of isolated angst, but she had forgotten about it (read: her mind built a barracade against the trauma) and it was as though it never happened. There were some consequences, though, and that was her suspicion of those that she did not know and her plain mistrust. Tit would not be the only wolf she grilled that entered their ranks. His missing eye made him a bit unnerving, but there was more to it than that—not that she would ever be able to explain such a thing.

These little things were nothing that she was completely aware of in any case. What she was aware of now was of all this mud that clung to her and made her appear like a mud monster. It gave her a terribly wicked idea, but it wasn't a very good one. She had never been known for being bright, though. Just a short fuse. And a short girl, too.

Clover sought out her true ride or die, Fiadh, as she slugged through the territory. And then she decided a little bit of practice wouldn't hurt, to boot—she paused in her jaunt to belly-flop into a particularly muddy bank and roll all around until every bit of her was caked in mud. With a cackle, Clover extracted herself from the stuff and sought out her fellow daredevil, tail waving—but her subconscious came out and could not help the paranoid lookaround, hoping that she would not meet Tit alone.

She'd never admit it, but she could not face him alone, or Niamh, either, for that matter. She didn't know them—and there was a moment she felt the warm breath of someone on her neck, and Clover turned to snap at her shoulder, where no one was. Clo didn't understand her action much herself, and squinted, before continuing on her merry way again.