Heron Lake Plateau It’s all business in the left-hand lane

Colt didn't sleep well, not in the least. He was still morose over the meeting, once again faced with this pack's inability to ever accept healthy criticism, and fretted over his sister.  It had been weeks with no word.  He was starting to think the worst, and he wasn't taking it well.

On top of that, hours later, Niamh still hadn't returned.  He'd needed to talk to her, but now was left wondering what the fuck was going on there too instead.  Around midnight he went looking, but when he didn't find her in their old spot, simply sat under the stars a few hours, uncharacteristically silent, before returning to try and finish the night.

He might have slept some, but it was broken, and as a result Niamh's kick didn't so much wake him as snap him into focus.  He looked over, and immediately he knew she was mad.  Why?  He was going to find out.

Alright.  Out with it. His tone was tired... he could guess what it was about, but had no idea what specifically.