Heron Lake Plateau alright, i'm lying, it's pleather

tegan couldn't tell if it was this damn head injury, or if niamh was seriously flying off the rails. his ears pressed to his skull, trying to drown out her terrible, maniacal laughing, and he waited for her to finish. his eyes squinted, but she didn't seem to slow her roll. so, yeah, looked like she was losing her mind. "look, he's alive, okay? titmouse is alive," tegan said, a little harshly-- partially due to his injury and partially because he couldn't tell if niamh was just seriously undermining his authority... as always. "i saw him. his scent's on me, he's got a giant scar where towhee ripped his throat out and he can hardly talk." it was true. if they chose not to believe him then fuck them. 

ouch. his head hurt. 

hydra advised he leave, and tegan looked at her with a sidelong glance. ugh. fine. the adults can talk. stupid ole tegan could go curl up somewhere and pout like a baby...

actually-- yeah, that was exactly what he was gonna do. he did not feel good. "imma go rave," he sputtered, and then began to waddle off, ears still pressed to his skull and eyes half-open. cause ouch that sky was bright.