Heron Lake Plateau The Elgar Cello Concerto- but not Yo Yo Ma's version.

WC: 1021

Poor Owen remained more or less where he was, having shot benetah the shrub, but Niamh didn't mind, just in case the wolfdog wasn't being honest about his intentions. The last thing she wanted to do was to have to explain to Owen's parents that she'd gotten him injured because she'd decided to try a different tactic when it came to taking down a trespasser. Owen was safe as long as he kept back a bit, though he clearly didn't look as though he understood, whatsoever, why she had chosen to do what she was doing. She would explain later- as long as there was a later, of course. This fine-limbed fellow was wicked fast, and there would be few opportunities for her to catch him and bring him down to punish him for trespassing. What Owen didn't know, was that this was Niamh's plan all along- she didn't want to play with the strange creature whatsoever, she wanted to hurt him, since chasing him out could prove to be futile, with the speed he had.

As swift as he was, there was no doubting the fact that Niamh would never be able to catch him unless he tripped up. So chasing him from there to the borders, he could give her the slip and arc around so that he could easily go further into their territory. What she needed to do, then, was to injure him so that he couldn't run- at least not as fast- and then either kill him or chase him out and make sure that he left without ever considering the possibility of coming back. But to catch a fellow so fast would be nearly impossible so instead she'd resorted to playing whatever game it was the bouncy, long-faced creature wanted, as his mannerisms mocked those a young wolf would do to encite play. His large, expressive eyes looked so hopeful, and so pleased to see that she'd bounded a few stape and lowered into a play bow. He fell for it. He was falling for her lure, which was exactly what this whole game was.

If she couldn't catch him, she'd need to draw him in close so that she could simply grab him when he came near enough to her. Some wolves she might be able to seduce, but that had never been Niamh's forte. She'd never been the ultra-feminine femme fatale that her older sister could be, nor did she want to be. She was happy enough rubbing elbows with Ambrose and tackling him whenever he wasn't prepared for her to do so. So with this male, she had to use another tactic but fortunately, it seemed to work- as odd as it was. Owen still looked gobsmacked, but she left him where he was as long as he chose to stay back a bit. This creature had a long muzzle, which meant long ros of sharp teeth that could easily grab and slash. Niamh wasn't about to let him get anywhere near Owen, even if it meant endangering herown life.

When the male talked, it was with a strange accent that she had only heard once before- it reminded her vaguely of a wolf she'd met once, the pale, pretty white female who had managed to steal a, old deer carcass away from Niamh in a grotesque game of tug-o-war. But the accent on this guy was much stronger. Despite that, though, it was plain as day that he was happy to see other wolves, and he said as much as he came to a stop, his seemingly endless tongue hanging happily out the side of his mouth. Niamh kept her act together, lifting herself up out of her play bow, but she kept her tail waving in an almost circular pattern, and ears pricked in interest. ”Good to see you too,” She greeted, her voice warm and genial, fairly honest for Niamh who wasn't necessarily the best of actors. This was her first time using a plot like this, after all, so she couldn't be expected to nail it.

He introduced himself, and Niamh almost felt a bit sorry for him. He was just like a big puppy, having bounded into the wrong place. She still wasn't entirely sure what he was, whether he was part wolf and part some other canine, or what. Curiosity began to get the better of her, but she was willing to allow it- in the hopes that she might be able to make him relax a bit more, maybe sit down or lay down, and allow her to get a bit closer. ”I'm Niamh, and that's Raptor,” She said, gesturing toward Owen. Hey- he was someone else's kid, she wasn't going to go telling strangers who exactly he was, just the same way you ought not post pictures of someone else's kid on Facebook without first asking permission. And of all strangers, this Sizzle was perhaps the strangest she'd ever seen. She didn't gesture for him to come forward as she still wanted him to hang back a bit. She would keep Sizzle preoccupied for a bit.

When he explained that he was lost, she began to understand a bit more why he had ended up where he was. Just because he had a long muzzle didn't mean that his sense of smell was the best, she reminded herself. The way his eyes were shaped, and their placement, told her that he was probably quite keen of sight, and maybe relied less on his sense of smell for hunting. She nodded. ”White Tail Marsh,” She replied, gesturing to the area. Of course, the plateau did have a fair amount of water ways in and through it, so the name wasn't too much of a fail. Playfully, she tilted her head to the side, and gave him a curious smile. ”I have to ask though...What exactly are you? I've never seen anyone like you before,” She enquired, just so that at least she had an idea of what she was- and could ask around to see if anyone else had ever come across something like him.