Sun Mote Copse Fairest of the seasons

In the wake of the trip to the Caldera, Niamh had taken a bit of time to rest her legs and raided perhaps more than one cache to replenish the energy she'd spent on the trip. She'd had a late afternoon nap, and woke up just as the sun was setting, which she knew would inevitably mean she'd likely be up half the night. Still, she had no ragrats as she stretched and prepared to go off for a trip along the borders when she caught sight of Phox, who appeared through the darkening forests, having returned from the trip to visit the Frosthawks. 

She growled softly as a greeting, and reached for him with her jaws open, mouthing harmlessly at his shoulder as she sank down alongside him. She leaned against his side, and could feel the grating of his teeth against the stick he'd found through the muscles of his neck, which was where she chose to rest her chin. She eyed the stick for a moment, just long enough to make up her mind that he really ought share everything with her, and she reached out with a sudden snap, hoping to grab a hold of it as well. She was feeling unusually playful- and the combination of having a late afternoon nap and the return of her mate left her wired and full of energy.