Heron Lake Plateau omens in the clouds

The puppies ran toward her in a horde of excitement and silliness, and she couldn't help laughing as they surrounded her. No amount of anger and heartache could prevent them from putting a smile on her face. She took a moment to greet each kid, tousling fuzzy heads, playfully nipping tails, and rolling one or two of them over onto their backs with a swipe of her paw. When the frenzy calmed, she grinned up at her mate and commented, "Jeez. You'd think they'd be tired after scouting with you." She approached him and greeted him with kisses on his dark face, feeling the ever-familiar electric tickle in her chest that she always felt at the sight of him. Their life had been so idyllic and perfect -- why did circumstances always have to change that? Why couldn't Blackfeather just leave them alone?

Thinking of the name brought her elation down a notch, and she sat down next to where he lay as the pups dispersed to play amongst themselves. A glance around revealed that they'd already wrought ample destruction on the shrubbery around the rendezvous site, and she grinned. Growing pups were such a force of nature. Her thoughts never strayed far from keeping them safe, and it was with that in mind that she looked at Quixote with weary somberness in her golden eyes. "I think Blackfeather took Ceara," she said, deciding to get straight to the point. "Last time I saw her, she mentioned they were lurking around. They beat her up, and now she's gone. That's their pattern."