Sun Mote Copse I've been swimming from the Wallace

While occasionally such a reply might merit a snarl or at least a curl of the lip from the surly harpy, coming from Fennec it was almost a compliment. She would take what she could get and with a sniff, she nodded in affirmation. Yeah, whatever indeed. 

It was with gentle knowingness that Fennec tended to her wounds, and Niamh in turn gently combed her teeth through Fennec's fur, pulling some of the dirt free and untangling the fur that had been toussled during their fight. And while she wasn't necessarily the gentlest, she was relatively efficient, having had her own share of wounds to deal with over the course of her life. Fennec's touch was featherlite compared to her own- though she was more considerate of Fennec's potential pain threshold than she was of her own. 

She repositioned herself one point, and found herself flinching from the sore muscles that had been scratched repeatedly by Fennec's earthworn claws. "Jeez," She chuckled softly. "You little shit," Often a term of endearment reserved for her own children, she surprised herself in saying it with reference to Fennec. "I been scratched up by a cougar, but wolf claws almost hurt more despite being blunt."