Sun Mote Copse It's called a lance, hello!

Aaaand again- for anyone stalking this, if YOU suffer from migraines, I got two strange, but helpful things that I find work for me:

1. "Peppermint Halo" oil from Saje, used along the temples, across my forehead, behind my ears, down the back of my neck and on my wrists. You smell like am apothecary and DO NOT GET IT NEAR YOUR EYES because it's REALLY minty but it'll suck some of the pain out. 
2. put feet in cold water, (as cold as you can stand it), and put like a hot water bottle, or microwaved bean bag thing on the back of your neck. I think something about the contrast of heat and cold at extremities does something for drawing pain away from your brain. 

Obviously, drink room-temp water, keep it dark and quiet, and take whatever meds you normally take for a migraine- but those two little tips have saved me from hours of agony before, or have at least lessened it. aaaand eeeeeend spiel!

The kids came first. Niamh nodded, even though she felt she should apologize. She knew he would understand, but that it wasn't the answer that he wanted. She hadn't outright given him a definitive answer, but the ambiguity and the apologetic, sad look on her features likely said enough. What worried her then was the fact that Phox hadn't wanted things to become awkward, or for things to change at all, apart for the option of them being together. She feared, then, that with all these things now brought to the forefront of her mind, that it had changed things- at least for her. 

And now, with their topic of conversation becoming heavy, it seemed the pressure had caused him to suffer a headache- and it was with such brevity that he made to excuse himself that she had to wonder if he really did have a headache, or if he simply wanted to get away from her. She hadn't noticed any signs of one coming on- but maybe she'd just missed them. She hadn't exactly been staring at him the whole time, and had been looking away for most of their conversation. He might very well have been squinting slightly, or massaging his tongue against his teeth. She wouldn't have noticed. 

Having taken a massive crack to the skull before, Niamh knew the feeling...And given his condition, she probably should have expected that he wasn't feeling one hundred percent. She'd had a head trauma before too, and had agonized for a long time with the pain of migraines following the Screech-headbutt-incident which had forever changed his life and personality. "I hate those," She admitted empathetically, but awkwardly. "Get...Get some rest, okay? And ya have to drink more water'n you think...It'll help, I think," She said, with a passive shrug. "D'you...Have somewhere to go?" She asked, wondering if he had established a den of his own since joining the pack. "There's always the Nest, or whatever Wildfire called it...The big communal den thing, in the centre of the packlands. It...Should be quiet and dark," She suggested...Because she felt like offering her own den was a step too far.