[Rose]

Larkfire
She/Her | Purrks Overlook

Uneasiness. It prickled at the base of her neck, and then crawled down her spine, mimicking the path the burning rake of claws had taken earlier. Wolverine's moods were as unpredictable as her mother's (her third mother's, to be precise), and after spending moons in the scarred tabby's presence, Larkfire had learned never to let her guard down, no matter how calm her companion seemed.

Wary gaze resting on her great-grandfather, Larkfire listened in silence to his words, ignoring the sense of foreboding hovering at the edges of her mind. She would not die today, or the next day, or the one after that. She would live, because she had a litter to give birth to, there was life growing within her, and she owed it to Darkfall to see this through. He'd already lost so much family. She'd not allow him to lose more -- she'd not be the reason he lost any more.

Wolverine's next words hit like a punch to the gut. It wasn't the insult that wounded her, oh no. It was a nickname that scraped Larkfire raw, that sent her back in time to another life, when Dappledleaf had been her caretaker.

‘Larkfire, my little bird.’

‘Thank you, my little bird.’

‘My little bird? May I come and sit with you, darling?’

Larkfire's breath came out in a short, harsh exhale as she battled with herself not to reveal how unstable the nickname made her. The memories flicked by, insistent and nagging, but the Medicine Cat pushed them away. Dappledleaf was dead to her -- had long since been dead to her. Attention zeroing in on Wolverine as the older feline granted ... her wish?, but did not tell her the cost, Larkfire parted her maw to argue, but was cut short by his next words.

“What’s wrong with my name?” She asked warily instead.

[ @BEAR. - Wolverine ]