Sun Mote Copse Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme

Her ear lifted at the sound of Wraen's bark- but it took Niamh a few moments longer to wake up, stretch- and then realize that her little cherub had bolted out the den. This was absolutely not okay, as the puppies were still young- and Niamh had, for the most part, kept them sheltered. She lunged to her feet, cracking her head off the low ceiling of the den, and shot quickly out the short but narrow entrance and once she'd locked her maladjusted eyes onto her son, she slid to a stop with one forefoot on either side of him so that she towered over him protectively. Fortunately, she managed to keep herself from snapping at the figure who'd lured her son out of the den as soon as she blinked and recognized Wraen. She shook her head. Sometimes she woke up far too quickly- and acted before she even had a chance to think. It was happening more and more often. 

"Sorry," She apologized, for her frazzled, suddenly overprotective entrance. "Alyx, Prim, you shouldn't ha-PRIM?!" Niamh shouted, and bounced nearly a foot in the air in surprise when she looked down at her son mid-sentence. She avoided him when she landed- but still stared at her son in disbelief, her fur standing on end. She leaned toward him to sniff at the small child, and while she recognized his features and shape- his colour...Wasn't what she'd thought it was. In the dim light of the den, she had simply assumed that Primrose had been a blonde like her- albeit with a slightly different tint, but not nearly as rosy as she realized he was now, in the sunlight for the first time. "You're pink?!?" She demanded, having more or less forgotten that Wraen was even present.