Heron Lake Plateau Road Regrets

It took a moment for Niamh to spot Quixote, given that she hadn't heard him above the din the raccoon had made. She smelled him first, and turned her head, hackles bristling until she made out his shape in the fading light, his eyes bright even in the darkness. She recognized him from that day, and her ears flicked back momentarily. There were still a number of wolves she had yet to meet since that day, and she wasn't entirely sure how most of them would receive her, given they'd wanted to rip her throat out the last time she'd seen them. Finley's daughters had been the most obvious two to watch out for- she was prepared to be ambushed at almost any moment. 

She remembered this guy, though; he hadn't been a complete asshat, but he also hadn't exactly helped...Compared to the majority of the other wolves who'd simply wanted to chase her off, though, that made him one of the few 'good guys.' She relaxed when he greeted her, and slicked her hackles back down, lowering her head in a greeting. He was almost on the short side, or maybe average- hard to tell, given the fact that he was quite solidly built. Definitely looked like the tough sort, not the kind she'd want to tangle with. 

Half a smile crept across her muzzle when he spoke, and she nodded, shrugging one shoulder. "I guess 'asshat' and 'shithead' and whatever else was said doesn't make for a great introduction, hey?" she joked. "I'm Niamh; just about to go for a patrol if you wanted to join," She said.