Heron Lake Plateau impossible to actualize an honest diagnostic

Clover scoffed with her sister, though said nothing. Perhaps the look was enough, and the simple sound effect, and for added measure, the very mature Blackthorn rolled her eyes as her gaze shifted to Fiadh: what the hell is she on? The new female stranger didn't seem to know why it was they did not trust the runaway, even after Clover had addressed he had abandoned them. Clover might have been for a second chance if he hadn't been a bag of dicks to her big sister, and then deciding to disregard her (and Fiadh's) warnings as though they weren't serious about kicking ass and taking names (Cloverfiadh were very serious about this)—she just did not like him. And as she turned depart at her mothers cue, her ears turned backward to listen—he had gotten into a fight with her dad????

Her dad, the most levelheaded, evenkeeled, chill dude of them all?

Again her green eyes looked for Fiadh's. If that wasn't the nail on the coffin for her judgment of him, well, she would probably find something else. Clover really wasn't one for grudges, but she was all for protecting her new family and the family she stood beside everyday for months now. For as long as she lived, really. Clover dipped her head and entered the den, tail waving. Hello to the new resident fart machines, she greeted jovially, her tail wagging.