Sun Mote Copse Not another broken arm in the street

Niamh chuckled. She sort of liked the idea of being called a Vulture- but she knew she'd get teased and called things like 'Buzzard,' which wasn't exactly complimentary. Wraen, the conversationalist as always, had an interesting point to share about nicknames and names, though, which made Niamh laugh. Being a bit vain herself, she cuold definitely sympathize with the little female in question, as she herself wouldn't have necessarily wanted to be named after a large, smelly, shabby creature. "Guess you're right," She agreed. 

She shifted, trying to get herself more comfortable, and the sun had begun to make her a bit sleepy. "Well. I think the kids and I are due for a nap, so I'm gonna head inside. If you think of a nickname for me, let me know though, hey? An' thanks for stopping by," She didn't mean to shoo Wraen off- but she did need her rest, as much as she truly did enjoy Wraen's company.