Redhawk Caldera I love the smell of napalm in the morning

Throat still aching for her mistake, Wildfire merely nodded in reply. Sebastian had taught her all about honey. And now Tiger was teaching her all about... marigold and coltsfoot? The pup tried to commit those words to memory by repeating them in her head. Her lips moved silently. Wildfire pondered once more the meaning of the term inflammation, though she didn't dare ask.

"Oh," Tiger said, pushing the pile of honey-dipped herbs toward her. "You eat it." The child blinked, listening to the medic's instructions. She couldn't help it. She scrunched up her nose and shot Tiger a look as if to ask, Really? Do I have to? But Wildfire was notoriously obedient, so she let out a tiny sigh and then plopped a paw on the nearest plant.

It stuck to her foot, which amused the youngster. She lifted her leg, staring at the spray of green dangling from it. Wildfire smiled, then jammed it in her mouth. She chewed lengthily, not because Tiger had told her to do so but because she had already learned that doing so made swallowing slightly less unpleasant. Finally, the inevitable moment came and she flexed her tongue, pushing the green mush into her gullet. It was sweet but also bitter. It tasted like...

"Farts," Wildfire whispered, her voice so low it was barely audible. She grimaced and glanced up at Tiger, sticking out her tongue which was coated in green paste.