Heron Lake Plateau cruisin' through the alley

Clover squinted at Tegan, and it took her a minute to get the joke, and Fiadh, witty as ever, threw in her own little barb (gone too soon, RIP, Barb) and Clover snickered. She had just been clued in, and now knew what she meant, and her gaze panned to Tegan as she responded, point: Fiadh. 

And as they collaborated on the idea, Fiadh brought up a really great idea. They touched bird shit probably every day anyhow without even knowing it, but Fiadh saying that they rub some literal dirt on it and then chuck it at Screech? Fucking brilliant idea. Those big ol' birds probably take really nasty ones, she scrunched her muzzle and looked to Lucca. For lack of any contributions or critiques, Lucca, I designate you as the mudshit maker, and she looked to her siblings with a mischievous glint in her eyes. When shall we shit on his life? She inquired, eager to do so.