Heron Lake Plateau It takes you back to from where it is you came

Niamh heard Quixote's call vaguely, and assumed that it was best that she simply leav things to that. She knew Towhee would be around eventually to check her out and see what was up, and didn't even consider the fact that Towhee might instead go directly to Quixote. She half-hoped her Person would show up, so that she could mope and sob and complain about Quixote without having someone make the Quixote face at her. Yes, that was a thing, she was ertain of it. Quixote had a particular face that he almost always greeted her with, and if that look could talk, it most likely would have said something like 'what did you do now?' or 'so what do you expect ME to do about it?' Maybe she was being too hard on him...But presently, she was more fixated on being too hard on herself. 

She stopped, sucking in her breath and holding it when she heard a small voice at her den. It was high and clear, and definitely didn't belong to Towhee- it was too articulate. She rustled herself up out of the fluff she was resting in and rubbed her face against one front leg to try and hide the fact that she'd been doing something between sleeping and sobbing. She took a deep breath and emerged partially from the den, squinting the way one would when hungover, and peered at young Kiwi. 

"Yep," She responded blearily, trying to sound more upbeat than she actually was, forcing her voice into a slightly higher register than normal. "What's up, Kiwi?" She asked. While she wasn't in the mood, really, she did like the fact that the pack's younger members seemed to be drawn to her, for talking about things they didn't want to talk to a real adult about. Niamh could handle that- being sort of in between was her specialty.