Heron Lake Plateau mac and cheese calzone

Over time, Niamh began to emerge from her den and set about hunting, after having made a deal about spreading dismembered coyote parts about the borders along the thicket. She hoped that it would ward them off for the winter and that they would interpret that as a sign that there was a bona fide coyote killer in the pack. She'd noticed that a tail had gone missing- an odd scrap of bristly hair and bone to lose, but something may have made off with it for some strange reason or other. She chose not to dwell on it. But when she passed along the borders, she didn't catch the scent of any live coyotes so she was appeased. 

She had heard via Towhee what had happened to Phox and she didn't quite know what to make of it. The whole Phox/Camilla relationship was beyond her, though she had been the one to allow Camilla to join the pack, so naturally she'd noticed some sort of dependency between the two of them- though more on Camilla's end. Apparently she'd been seized by the wolf that had been pursuing her, and Phox hadn't been able to ptotect her...And no others had apparently been close enough to help out, either. She herself had likely been holed up in her den like a sick rabbit, so poor Phox had been on his own trying to save her. She felt sad and angry about the whole thing, but only a small bit; she still felt delirious and numb most of the time. 

Still, she'd heard he'd been keeping with Raven, to heal up, and as much as she was continuing to avoid Quixote- did he even know about Bruges? He'd left her well enough alone, and she was grateful for that...But also a tad spiteful. If he'd cared, he would have checked in on her. She still couldn't bring herself to respect him, and the idea of leaving still remained in her mind like a seed waiting to be watered. Being careful to scent her way to Raven's den to see if both Raven and Quixote would be there, she crept along, pausing in her steps when she caught Phox's scent growing stronger. He must've left. She felt thankful that she wouldn't have to go and face either Raven or Quixote- for the time being. It was inevitable. 

She tracked her way toward him using her sense of smell, and winced inwardly when she caught sight of him in the distance. So Towhee hadn't been exaggerating; someone had pretty much chewed Phox's face to ribbons. Still, he was alive, and he would continue to heal over time. He had a determined look on his....Face, even though it was a bit harder to read his expression with his wounds. She neared, but hesitated, not sure if he wanted to be bothered. She simply waved her tail as a means of showing him she was there, but would bugger off if he didn't also make his way toward her.