Heron Lake Plateau Is it for the best? My reputation's never been worse

Looking at Fiadh, Raven was glad she had jumped in front of their attack during the little turf war between the Redhawks and Titmouse's band of upstarts. She had done it just as much for their protection as for her brother's -- more so, actually -- and she'd do it again a hundred times over. If Titmouse or any of his followers had harmed a single silver hair on either her or Clover's bodies, Raven might have killed them herself. No matter how she felt about their mother at this particular moment, she loved those girls like they were her own. Maybe one day they would understand, when they were older and had young family members of their own to protect.

She giggled at Fiadh's colorful description of the nearby heron -- ah, those Blackthorn kids had such a way with words! -- and then rolled her eyes playfully at the girl's totally over-the-top description of the new sheriff in town. "No idea," she replied with a genial grin and an exaggerated shrug. "Certainly couldn't be me. Is it you?" She prodded the girl lightly on the shoulder with an ink-black paw, feeling the warmth of her usual easygoing happiness for the first time in many days.