Heron Lake Plateau round, round, round

He had been resting in Raven's den since the incident, still shaky and unsure - it was only when the sun began to rise on the following day that the young blackthorn picked himself up, pale paws attempting feebly to stretch toward the den's entrance, where soft light poured in and pooled a few steps away from him. His face crumpled into concentration as he moved (taking caution to be slow), but his balance was completely off without his tail, and he wobbled unsteadily.

Phox had come to check on him earlier (which he greatly appreciated) and though he was still in pain, it felt good to stand, even if he didn't look like a model on a catwalk when he tried to shift his body forward. Cinder winced, but shuffled himself forward carefully until he reached the opening, climbing his way out and then deciding that he'd probably do something dumb and fall over if he went too much further (he was going to have to adjust to being tailless now). At least he could tell the others how much of a badass Phox was, charging in and saving Cinder from the ferocious lynx - though he'd rather have been the savior himself. He could probably twist the story a tinsy bit and make it out like he'd done something to help (or maybe not... it was bad to lie, wasn't it), rather than sprinting away and leaving the darker wolf to deal with problem. He did feel a little apologetic about that.

The silver youth peered up toward the hazy clouds and settled himself down again, wondering what the heck to do now.

Why did it seem like Finley's kids were always getting their asses kicked? When she'd heard what had happened, she'd reacted just the way you'd expect a mother would. She freaked out, sprinted to Raven's (bum hip be damned) and attempted to worry all over her kid.

Fortunately, the healer was very practiced at calming her sometimes overly emotional aunt. She'd been reassured her son would be fine. She just had to be patient. GOOOODDDDD it's so annoying to have to be patient. But she did it, for her kid. Her itty bitty flame.

Finley had stayed nearby her goddaughter's den while Cinder recovered, so when she heard him emerge, she was on the move. She slowed to watch him for a moment before she smiled and approached him.

"Well, you're officially a Blackthorn, kiddo," Fin informed him light-heartedly, "How does it feel to have earned your Blackthorn stripe?" She probably ought to have taken this more seriously, but she was too thankful that he was alive and safe to do so just yet.

It didn't take long for someone else to occupy the empty space around him, and Cinder was more than pleased that it happened to be his mother, rather than anyone else - he didn't have the energy to retell whatever had happened to him, and there was no doubt that Finley would have discovered via Raven or Phox. The young blackthorn cast a lazy grin her way, feeling his tail sway gently behind him - except it uh... didn't. It was more of a wobble than a wag, and it hurt, but he didn't peer around to look at the lack of a tail at his rear. 

"Dunno." He laughed slightly, bronze eyes closing as a yawn interrupted his thoughts. "I feel like a rabbit," The boy added, with a goofy grin stretching out across his youthful features - yeah, his battle scars weren't really intimidating, to say the least.

Her heart was warmed when her son gave her a smile in return and a wag of his... stub. That would take some getting used to. Concern flashed across her face at the sight, but Cinder seemed to be in good enough spirits. There was no need for her to dampen them by going all mom-scared on him. He'd be okay. She'd met wolves that had lost their tails before and they'd seemed to get along fine without it. He'd be okay.

Fin chuckled at his comment. "Maybe that'll be your new nickname instead of Cinder," she replied, completely unaware that she actually had a younger sibling somewhere in the world that went by the name of Rabbit, so it was already a kind of family name. "You do kinda look like one," she added jovially, "I mean, not just the tail, even though I didn't notice it until the tail. But you have a very bunny face." She nodded sagely.

His grin widened, undeniably pleased at the chance to have a nickname - it reminded him of Bat (who he'd only recently discovered was actually Ror- wait... rorq-something), and his ears perked at the chance to tell her he was nicknamed after another creature, too; even if it wasn't the most spectacular or fearsome of animals. One brow raised, though, at his mother's next statement.

Did he look like a bunny?

The blackthorn searched his memory for the few times he'd taken the time to look at his reflection in a puddle of water, or a shimmering lake - he didn't recall exactly what he looked like, because in all honesty, his memory was not the greatest, and he didn't pay much attention to his appearance anyway. It was just kind of there. "Do I?" He mused aloud, tongue poking out slightly as he attempted to think (a habit of his). "I like that nickname." He concluded, still smiling goofily, though he wasn't sure he'd like to give up Cinder. It sounded familiar, whereas Rabbit or Bunny didn't... still, he liked them and wouldn't be opposed to either being an affectionate pet name.

He stood up rather suddenly, dropping into a nonchalant crouch before attempting to spring forward like a rabbit - it wasn't the most elegant of actions, but he enjoyed the tiny wooosh of air past his ears as he landed (wobbling again). "Hah! I can be a rabbit!"

Good god her kid was adorable. Finley grinned at his thinking face, which is totally giving me Winnie the Pooh feels. It made her happy that he actually liked the nickname since it had grown on her already. It might not be a total replacement for Cinder, but it didn't necessarily need to be.

"Yeah? You know, you wouldn't be the first Blackthorn to have three or four nicknames," she said, trying to encourage him. Regardless of whether he picked it up or not, Fin would definitely be calling him that. Especially after the show he decided to put on for her that brought a laugh out of her.

"Look at you go!" she replied, wagging her tail, "Bouncing around is actually how I got my nickname - ...I mean, I don't. I'm lying." Finley faltered the moment she got to the word nickname as she realized how very much she did NOT want anyone else to know it. She'd hated the name all her life and could only imagine the fun her boys would have if they picked it up (if they hadn't already at some point in their lives idek).

He beamed in her direction, stub-tail wiggling for the second time - "I could collect nicknames!" the silver boy barked, but knowing that he didn't have to give up Cinder made the new name even more appealing; yeah, he could totally rock another name! It felt like some kind of award, and he was eager to show it off. 

But then--

Oh then, his mother mentioned her own nickname... which Cinder realised abruptly he'd never heard. And he was intruiged. Wide eyes filled with curiousity sparkled toward Finley, and he shuffled closer on his butt, incredibly enthusiastic to hear what nickname she'd been given. He stared at her expectantly, blinking: oh, she was too late to take her words back. Now he wanted in -- they could be bouncing buddies.

He didn't beg her verbally, but that was clearly unneccessary. He made that face at her. Finley gave him a sheepish look, then shook her head. "Okay like, I don't even know what that face is for," she said, again trying to backtrack and insist that she hadn't even mentioned having a nickname of her own. "I mean, maybe cuz.. But I didn't, so... Hey, remember when you were bouncing? Do that more!" Her face split into a big, toothy, hopeful smile.

His non-verbal plea was noticed, but unsuccesful - she didn't explain what her nickname was, and Cinder decided this would be his new mission: uncover mamma's secret nickname. Attempt no.2: guilt tripping. If he was gonna discover this, he was gonna have to not-be-so-good. But it was okay, he could apologise after he got the nickname. The blackthorn boy inched closer, deciding to use one of the few tricks that sprung to mind; the puppy eyes.

"Pleaaaase tell me." He whined softly, flopping onto his stomach and rubbing his paws over his nose sadly. "I promise i'll keep it a secret! You can count on me!" 

Fin squirmed uncomfortably under the intense pressure of the puppy eyes. There was no verbal argument in the world that could sway her like a super cute little face. Especially a super cute little face that she had given birth to. She bit her lip and heaved a deep sigh, seeing no way out of this.

"Okay, but if you tell Clover then I'm officially disowning you," Fin warned before sighing again and saying in a very teensy little voice, "It's Frog."

Success!

"I won't tell." The young Blackthorn felt a wave of glee that his attempts had paid off, silver ears cupping forward in eager anticipation to hear the nickname fall from his mother's tongue -- and when it did, he was not disappointed. "Frog!" He blurted, before peering quickly around and then repeating it in a hushed tone. "Frog," a grin spread across his face, tail thumping against the ground. That was the best nickname ever.

"Now we're bouncing buddies, ok?" The best duo.

Fin felt a stab of OH GOD WHY when her son basically screamed (in her head) her nickname, but the eager joy on his face was enough to temper her regret. Plus, he caught himself quickly enough and said it again in a more hushed tone, showing he'd heard and would respect the rules. She couldn't help but smile, especially when he announced them to be bouncing buddies moving forward.

"Okay, Rabbit," Fin replied, pulling herself to all fours and crouching into position, "Let's do this."

And then they hopped the afternoon away and the mental image just fills me with happy.