Heron Lake Plateau Never mind the slacks and bashers

One ear tilted in his direction, and out of the corner of her eye she could see him lower himself to the ground beside the lake, and only turned her head to look at him when she noticed how gingerly he was doing so, just in time to see him try and stifle a small noise. She couldn't hear it- but she could see the pain on his face, and her ears flattened. She looked him over, from a distance, then, trying to see if she could catch sight of any new or opened wounds...But from where she was, she couldn't quite make anything out. She opened her mouth to ask- but he asked a question that made her snap her mouth shut. 

She sat down, promptly, and returned her stare out over the lake, gaze hard and cold. Of course- she'd end up being the one everyone would ask about him, like she was his nurse or something. Even when he was in a coma, everything Screech cared about was himself, and he got other wolves to do things for him. Her whiskers twitched. "Yeah." She said, finally, and realized that perhaps she'd spoken too quietly. "Yeah, the bastard's still in a comma," She said. Niamh wasn't exactly a medic, after all, and didn't know the difference between one being unconscious and one being a form of punctuation. Of course, the tough facade she put on was not much more than a guise, as she tried to keep herself together. Of course Quixote knew, too- he and Raven would have talked. She wondered what else Raven had told him...And figured it was best not to dwell on that. "I dunno. If he's still out tomorrow, I'd assume he's just faking it because he doesn't want to wake up and hear me shouting at him." She said. Not like someone could go into a coma out of spite but...If anyone could, then Screech definitely would...

...And so would Niamh.