Heron Lake Plateau So there's this puzzle I work on endlessly

Okay so that didn't really work, but at least she'd stopped asking him questions. He gave a small nod as if he understood (but really the thought of waiting had never occurred to him, obviously, but he also hadn't known what sex was until it happened), and then with a shy smirk murmured, Yeah, you're probably right.

The conversation seemed to lull there, but his residual embarrassment hadn't fully dissipated yet. He felt really warm, and started to think that Niamh was a little bit too close for comfort; a part of him wondered what her goal was with these questions — was it just curiosity because they were both pretty young, or..?

Is there someone in the pack you'd... y'know, wanna do it with? That came out a little bit louder than he intended, and really Screech hadn't meant to say it at all. The thought popped in to his head and came out of his mouth without any filtering, and immediately he wanted to take it back (the look on his face said as much, he even stepped back a half-step). I mean, sorry, that's none of my business — they're my siblings, I don't — I don't need that mental image, which of course produced exactly that. Except it was the briefest of glimpses of gold fur beneath silver, a mixture of images that turned the memory of Sorina in to — well, Niamh.

(The irony of his statement was lost on himself and on Java because they're both morons.)