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

As soon as she started talking, he could tell this thing was gonna be way more of a disaster than anything he'd be able to peel out of her in the next hour or two.  None of it made sense to a wolf with any sort of tactical head -- a kidnapper wouldn't come here and announce themselves like that wolf had, why would they tell the pack that Screech was dead when they were so far away they probably couldn't do much, why would they bother? 

Calm down, he said when he could finally get a word in as the wheels were turning Niamh's head, I need you to--- hey, wait! Where the hell--!!  Though at first he'd yelled after her, once it was clear she was picking up speed he just kind of gawked slack-jawed for a moment.  Okay, so she's basically useless in a crisis, good to know.  His second guesses at her actions had only been mild. The odd, 'Uh, why would you do that,' kind of thought that probably would have been solved by her growing up a bit more, which should theoretically happen.  But this?  This was a whole other level.  This was an, 'I chose wrongly and this will have to be rectified,' kind of scenario.  He had even more questions, but the only one that was certain was that Niamh was eager to force his hand.

Either way, it was only a few seconds before he turned back to Towhee, nudging her slightly, I'd ask if you were in there, but you can't hear me anyway.  And telling you not to get up probably isn't gonna work to well either, so... This is gonna be great, I'm sure.  The blood wasn't hers, looked like -- everything else was -- so hopefully it wouldn't be too bad.  Raven should be here pretty soon too to confirm anyway.   Quixote's current only plan was to squash her back down if she woke up and tried to get up before Raven had a chance to give her an once-over.  It wasn't like he'd really gotten much of a story from Niamh about what actually freaking happened...