Sun Mote Copse We are legion

Niamh shrugged one shoulder hopelessly when Wildfire apologized, though she was aware that she both looked like an immature idiot, and that she should probably dignify her sovereign with a better response than that. But she couldn't choke any words out just yet, and when she was interrogated about why Colt hadn't asked her, she snorted, in a somewhat skeptical manner, and shrugged her shoulders again. 

"I dunno. It's his call. But I wanna be his mate, I wanna be official." She said. "Maybe he's not." She said, sounding more bitter than anything else. She heaved in a deep breath, and took a moment to try and compose herself a little bit. She really ought not be saying such things about Colt behind his back- he'd never been a bit inconsiderate toward her, and the only thing that she was really after was a label. He treated her, in every way, like his wife. "I'm just over-reacting...He treats me like I'm a princess. I just....I just wanna be called his wife." She said with a sorry shrug.