Heron Lake Plateau i.x : who was only a stranger at home

--------------------------------------------------

As soon as Niamh saw Quixote, she sat up, careful not to jostle Towhee, her features forlorn and apologetic, but not without the stark look of someone in shock. Why was it that she always seemed to get caught in something like this, having to explain a strange situation to Quixote? Maybe if he actually moved faster, he'd be the one in this situation, Said a voice ruefully, which surprised her. Since when had she ever thought such a thing about Quixote? Since now, apparently; now that she had to explain herself yet again, in a situation where she looked like an idiot and no one else was coherent enough to explain. But she didn't want to explain- she wanted to go after Colt .

"There was a Blackfeather wolf here; one of the ones that kidnapped Ceara." She said. With all the loose details now being smashed together, the truth and her hastily formulated fabrication jammed together. "She said Screech was dead...But she was lying. I think...I couldn't figure out what she wanted- whether she was a spy, or looking for another hostage since Ceara got free or what...So I called for Towhee." She said, glancing down at her prone friend. She hadn't called for Quixote- so she expected to be questioned about that judgement call...But she wasn't sure she could put up with that. Slowly, she stood up, pulling herself away from Towhee. "Colt came too...Towhee attacked the stranger as soon as I told her she was from Blackfeather, but Colt tried to stop her and she got knocked out." She said. She stepped away from Towhee's side...She would be safe with Quixote, now. She shook her head, looking off where Colt and Maegi had disappeared. Her throat tightened. "I thought...He was choosing...He was defending her, so I-" She said, and shook her head again. "I have to go find him. I have to-"

And she recalled the words he'd spoken to her before, stopping her from running off to find Bruges. Putting in action a plan that forbade anyone from running off if an emergemcy happened. Keeping them cooped up on the plateau where they, as a mass, would be safe. She'd let that happen once before and would never know the outcome, whether Bruges had survived or not. And it was likely that reason that Niamh had snapped. The dog had been tied to the chain for too long; and now, when the hand came to fasten the chain to its collar again, it had had enough.

Niamh bolted. 

--------------------------------------------------