Heron Lake Plateau if i die because you farted, i'm taking you with me

Niamh's routine had more or less been cemented in place, even though her border patrols had become distinctly more chilly of late, due to the changing of the seasons. She dreaded the oncoming winter- the ducks and geese and even the herons seemed to be fewer, which displeased her greatly, and it was getting colder. Though she snuggled close to Colt at night, she simply couldn't get close enough. The topic of digging a den had come up- or, rather, she'd brought it up- and thought it wasn't Colt's favourite idea, she was sure she could convince him otherwise, and she had plans to find the perfect spot and dig it herself. 

On her way scouting for a future densite, though, she happened upon young Cinder, squaring off against a rock that he held in his mouth quite fiercely. "'Cha got there, Cinder?" She asked, as though she couldn't see hat it was he had...Just in case he was playing a game and imagining it was something other than a rock.