Heron Lake Plateau To waste away the waking hours

It was only when Niamh saw her reflection that she realized how much she’d changed since she’d joined the pack a few months ago. What had it been, she asked herself- three, four months? But she’d been little more than a slip of a lone wolf, with a sort of teenage prettiness about her gawky frame. Her cheeks had been fuller, though, and her ears had looked bigger. Now, though, as she caught sight of her face in the lake’s reflection, she saw how much she’d changed.

Her gawkiness was gone- day after day patrolling, hunting and tracking had made her tough and lean, and the last bit of baby fat had left her cheeks, finally. She had a chiseled look to her features now, which were somehow more mature and a bit less cheeky and girlish. The cougar’s claws had left four paralell wounds along the left side of her face- two above her eye and two below, ending on the bridge of her muzzle. It would heal, but she doubted the fur would grow back and if it did, it’d likely be white. She bared her teeth and peered at the gap where her upper left canine had been- but thankfully, that wound was healing well. If she kept her mouth closed, it was almost impossible to tell it was gone. The only issue she faced with that was that without the upper canine to hold her lip out, the lower one had a habit of slipping out over her upper lip, which was not a look she cared for. If anything, it made her look inbred, or so she thought. The cougar’s clawmarks simply made her look tough. 

She looked at herself for a moment longer- more out of curiosity than vanity, and because it had surprised her to see he change in her features, before she waded into the waters and lay down, cooling herself off from the midday heat. She’d already done a patrol of the borders, and decided it was time to treat herself to a little break.