Heron Lake Plateau for more accurate facts about history, check out Yahoo! answers.

Clover gave her mother an unamused frown before she turned and cantered off - presumably for that hunt she'd been going on about for the last twenty minutes. Fin scrunched her own face up in an exaggerated mime of her daughter's in response, calling out, "You sure you don't want to hear anymore of your crusty ol' mom's stories???" as the girl went. Clover picked up her pace in response, and her mother merely snickered and looked away. She knew her kid appreciated her on some level. They all did. But it felt like just about all of her kids were at the age where they were more interested in hunting and trolling borders than listening to her ramble on about the good ol' days.

Finley bowed low to stretch her legs, swinging forward to stretch her lower back and hind legs as well. She skipped forward a couple of steps as she righted herself and gave her pelt a good shake before she too began to meander. Unlike Clover, she didn't have any interest in hunting that afternoon. Her bum hip made that a bit of a pain in the ass anymore (lol geddit???), but that didn't mean she preferred to spend her time being useless. It just happened to be what she did a good 80% of the time.

So, with boredom settling in, Fin began to sniff at stuff. And that's how this thread begins.