Heron Lake Plateau So I'll brace myself against this wall

It took quite some time for Niamh to feel comfortable leaving Screech on his own. She didn't want any unwanted visitors to her den while she was away- as she was still in protective mother mode- so she'd marked the entrance of her den by scratching her claws defensively in the dirt in front of the opening and marking it. That, she figured, would stand as a warning- she'd be back soon, and if someone came by in the meantime, she'd either get up in their face if they were still there when she got back, or she'd track them down afterwards and ask them what the hell they'd been thinking. Obviously- higher ranked wolves would be exempt from that, but as only Quixote, Raven and Towhee were more highly ranked than she (though Elwood and Finley were esteemed), it meant she could potentially have any number of unwelcome visitors. 

But when she was satisfied with the signs she'd left behind, she roved through the wooded area of the plateau, pausing when she heard an odd, repetitive squawk from nearby. Her ears perked; it sounded like a magpie, and when she looked up, she saw two overhead. She hadn't been able to collect magpie feathers, as the birds weren't often on the ground for very long, and were too quick to take off...But the squawking wasn't from the ones in the trees overhead- those squawks were coming from the ground. 

A fledgeling had fallen from the nest. It was almost as big as the adults, but its tail feathers weren't quite developed, nor were the feathers in its wings, which was why it wasn't quite ready to fly. As soon as it saw her it squawked and beat its wings helplessly, rising probably three or four feet in the air before it touched back down, and Niamh was upon it in an instant. This, naturally, caused a ruckus- and the two adult magpies began to swoop down at her, causing her to crouch defensively. She snapped at one as it swooped by, raking its claws through the fur along her back, but she was quicker to act when the next came toward her. Niamh whirled, crouched, and at the last moment, leapt up into the air- grabbing a mouthful of the bird's long, black and white tailfeathers which became dislodged as soon as her weight was applied against the bird's frantic, beating wings. She pulled it to the ground and stepped on one wing to keep it still. The fledgeling was still alive, but that wasn't her concern- it couldn't go anywhere. The other adult continued to harass her verbally, but did not swoop at her again, now that she'd pinned its mate's wing under one foot. She looked down at it, and then over to the fledgeling, hopping its way away from her and through the grass. An idea struck.

She thought, first, to break the adult's wings- but that might kill it. So instead she plucked the feathers from one wing and then the other, amidst its cries and futile attempts to peck at her or pull away. Missing its tail and wing feathers, the adult, too, was grounded. She picked it up gently and carried it over to where the fledgeling had gone, dropped it and grabbed the younger bird- and did the same. Now she had two magpies that could not fly away from her. She held them down by the wingbone, one under each front paw, and sat down. 

It was a good idea, or so she'd thought. But what was she to do with them now? She wanted to have them, but keep them alive until they were needed...But where to keep them, and how to do so, she still needed to figure out.