Heron Lake Plateau Lost some pieces I can't replace

Niamh had grown fairly quiet, tending to Screech's needs with perhaps a bit less of the doting care she had used before, and now she fed him, bit by bit of whatever she'd killed, simply because she had to, not because she necessarily wanted to. Still, at least she made sure that he ate, and that he got water as well. His strength seemed to be coming along slowly, even though he was but a husk of the asshole wolf he'd once been. But his disassociative state had begun to take a toll on Niamh, who patrolled the borders regularly, but with a resolute sort of silence as she did so. 

It was with a lack of feeling altogether that she wandered along the creek, leading away from the heart of the packlands and toward the borders to where the water dipped and fell from the tall cliff. Tegan's Tears, Towhee had called it. She didn't quite get the reference, as she'd never seen Tegan cry, or come close to being anything but...Well, Tegan. She stood along the bank at the top of the falls and looked down, as the water turned from clear to frothy and white, a small mist of spray rising up from the rocks below where the water crashed down upon them. In her mind's eye, she pictured the water spoiling, turning red, and she frowned at the mental image. She'd never thought of something like that before...But though it was a grizzly image, it still remained in her mind's eye with a strange, sort of alluring quality to it. She wondered how hard the impact would hurt, if she'd feel anything at all, or if she would just be out instantly, as she had been when she'd collided with Screech. She continued to stare down toward the pool below, transfixed by the idea of seeing the water turn red.