Noctisardor Bypass Oh no, I've caught the BEES

Sounds about right to me! ;) Or at least all these things seem to make sense at 2 am; we'll see how they look in the morning.
To the archives with it!

Given a choice between po-tay-to, poh-tah-to, Brou quite obviously chose useless spud, despite being well past the stage where she really should have been a more useful participant in pack life, as her mother often noted. Perhaps the loss of her father was stinging a little more distractingly than she'd like to admit, not to mention all the still-too-recent upheaval with the pack itself, even if at this point it might mysteriously seem to the reader like Brou was just willfully punching random buttons on her malfunctioning time machine and hurtling blindly about whence they took her. (Not that her author would ever do such a terrible thing.)

Brou made a face at the future trophies Arbiter hoped to award, or, rather more likely, the smoldering criticism of Brou's admittedly quite lackadaisical hunting and scouting reports yet to come. But whatever: that was a concern for another time, and right now Brou was having more trouble suppressing the fresh spark of enthusiasm for all the fun she was planning to have shortly. She didn't want to make it seem like she liked her entrapment however, or give the impression she was still a witlessly easily-fired-up pup. So she nodded in a grave acquiescence to her mother's parting words, and as she turned to jog away she waited until she was out of sight to allow the temporary fresh skip to her step emerge.