Heron Lake Plateau So there's this puzzle I work on endlessly

Things were... Chaotic, where Screech was concerned. No sooner had he begun to remedy a relationship with his sister, he'd also worked to suitably destroy any hope of one with the non-Redhawks of the pack; he knew he was in the wrong for reacting the way he did to Clover, but he couldn't accept the wrongness, not entirely. He was set on living his life the way he'd always done: kicking, screaming, and ruffling everyone's feathers along the way.

Today though, things had started off without a hitch. He'd woken to birdsong while dozing in the tall grasses alongside the lake. Screech had found a rocky segment of plateau that hadn't been submerged recently by any flooding, so it was a good place as any to take a nap. He'd gotten up, stretched, nibbled on a bone he'd grabbed from a cache, and been on his way to do a lazy patrol when the shine of Niamh's gilded silhouette caught in the light.

He squinted, turning his good eye towards her for better chances, and then decided to close the gap. Whatever awkwardness persisted after his previous encounter with her had been forgotten — rumor had spread that she'd been off on some sort of secret mission, and Screech was curious about it. Yet as he approached, she didn't seem too pleased. He took a chance and called, what up buttercup?