Heron Lake Plateau Never mind the slacks and bashers

If it's something like that, there's no rationale behind it. She glanced at him then, and didn't altogether believe him. He had no idea, then. That was the only reason he would have said something like that; if he'd known that Raven had been with some other, grey male, then he would have surely shown some sign of knowing something. He would have lied to her, then, and he really did not look like he was lying, or trying to cover something up. Niamh was left to deduce, then, that Quixote had no idea that Raven had had sex with someone other than him- someone who very well could be the father of the pups he thought were his. She bit her tongue. She wanted to tell him...But at the same time, now wasn't the best time- she still needed Raven to take care of Screech, and if she and Colt had a fight, she might not do her job as a healer well enough...

...She'd wait, then, until after Screech was healed, if he healed up at all. 

So she stayed silent, obviously still troubled. She didn't believe what he'd said about this meaning nothing...Quixote didn't know what Niamh knew- or, rather, what Screech had told her. Raven's words echoed in her mind- about Screech only ever caring about himself, and that he could very well have been lying. But at the same time...Who should she believe? Who could she believe? She didn't know Raven or Quixote well enough to take their word- and while she'd known Screech for some time, apparently he was a pathological liar. 

Quixote moved, but halted, showing signs of pain. Her brow furrowed. "What happened?" She asked, quietly. She glanced over him, and didn't see anything that she could pick out, but he certainly hadn't moved much since she'd laid eyes on him. Something else was up.