Heron Lake Plateau Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?

The sharpness of Quixote's look was enough to make Niamh cower slightly, but her presence was accepted, it seemed, when he gestured for her to leave the rabbit somewhere. Sidling in his direction, she tentatively placed the rabbit on the ground near him, before she side-stepped away again, looking up when she caught Raven's weak but gentle greeting. Anything but the look Raven had given the two yearlings would have sent Niamh scampering, as her nervs currently set her on edge, and made her hypersensitive to any sort of reaction or movement. Instead, though, the alpha's sleepy, weary eyes were soft and gentle, but the pain she bravely tried to mask was still there, still visible- and still tangible for Niamh, who could sense the sear of pain as the alpha female sat up. 

Still, she kept her distance, allowing Towhee to move toward her sister and greet her. There was a heat and tension that radiated from Towhee, like static electricity, and Niamh half expected to feel a shock from the anger that Towhee currently felt, as soon as it was able to release itself from her body. She was like a storm cloud, on the verge of spitting flashes of lightning, and Niamh did not want to be struck. When Towhee asked who had injured Raven, Niamh whined softly, and in preparation for some sort of backlash- from any of the three there, honestly- she inched backwards, body still close to the ground and ready to dodge or flop into a fully submissive pose should she be caught in the maelstrom of anger. 

The sound of Screech's name coming from Quixote's lips stung Niamh like a hot iron across her chest. She had been the one to join with Screech. She had been his friend, the one who actually made him feel at home in the pack. And when he'd been injured, she had taken care of him, and prolonged his life- only so that he could come damn near to ending Raven's. And she would never live that shame down.