Sun Mote Copse Three make a coven

Niamh snorted in incredulity when Towhee implied that Wraen had meant only to call Niamh a hero of sorts. She felt with every fibre of her heart that her Person was every bit of a hero that she was, if not more. And Towhee had been a mother just as long as Niamh had- Figment and Fennec were proof of Towhee's maternal capabilities, and that was not to be overlooked. 

She made an ugly sound at Towhee's joke, finding something particularly tickling about the idea of 'witching and bitching.' It was a laugh- but came from her lips so suddenly and without thought that it caused her voice to crack. Only Wraen would've been subject to its ugliness, but it was more or less an unbidden laugh- and Towhee would surely catch sight of Niamh's wry, unapologetic grin. She had a way with saying things that would catch Niamh by such surprise that she couldn't help how gracelessly she responded. She preferred Towhee's idea, of having the pack bring them food, rather than hunting down frogs in a bog. Wraen's intentions were wonderful- but Niamh was too tired to invest her energy in dancing for no reason and frogs were...Well, in a bog, and small. Niamh craved venison. -I could prolly give Bronco a call and get him to deliver us something- she suggested. Niamh's bias was fairly clear- she preferred Towhee's suggestions- but she was still glad that Wraen had called them out for some time off together. -I kinda like how soft my fur feels after a bit of a mud bath, though- She admitted, in an effort to show that in the very least, she was fine with going to the bog and getting a bit muddy.