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Lark hated to admit it, but she had lost track of how many pets she had had over the centuries. From the scruffy lioness that had first claimed a piece of her life, to her current companions... it had likely been hundreds. That lioness had been the first Tuah, and the name had passed down from one pet to the next, occasionally skipping an animal as another name asserted itself, but always returning before too long. Lark was the first to admit she had no head for names; this way was the easiest, so she stuck with it.
She had found that whichever pet carried the name was usually the one she formed the strongest bond with, especially the few times she had more than one pet at a time. Even when her current Tuah had been found after her other pets. She worried over it sometimes, but Komah assured her that he and Quiloe didn't care. I am here to repay the kindness you showed my mate, the spirit-cat told her after she'd asked him about it yet again. That doesn't mean you need to coddle me every minute. I am content, and so is the wolf. Wolves are pack animals, after all; she doesn't mind sharing.
Right now, however, Lark was feeling less than charitable toward the most recent object of her affections. She surveyed the mess that had been the living room of their new house with dismay. Pet bedding had been thrown or dragged everywhere, and the leather cushions she and Pitch had bought until they could get real chairs were scattered throughout the chaos. Two of them had been chewed to ruins, and the culprit himself was sprawled on his belly in the midst of the stuffing, a couple down feathers festooning his ruff. Komah and Quiloe had wisely left the scene, after Komah had all too happily informed her who was to blame; they were probably waiting upstairs for the storm to blow over.
"You want to tell me why you did this?" Tuah blinked at her sleepily, but otherwise didn't even twitch. "You get plenty of attention, there was no reason for this. You ought to know better. And when Pitch sees this mess, he's going to want to tan your stripey hide." Lark sighed, running a hand through her hair in exasperation. "Nether, who am I kidding? You're too big to whip, and you know it, too." Tuah just rolled to his side with a rumble, his massive front paws gently kneading at nothing, eyes almost closed. The tiny knot of feelings in her head, which comprised her bond with the tiger, was full of nothing but lazy contentment. Lark felt a grin tugging at her mouth, but firmly held it in. "You can forget the next pub night, you know. You may be too big to switch, I'll admit that, but I can darn well set Komah to watch you. See if you can get into any trouble then." No response for that. Lark shook her head, then stared at her pet incredulously as a sudden thought struck.
"You...big brat! You know you can get away with it, don't you?" Tuah rolled onto his back with a loud groan. With his head upside-down and his ears squashed to the floor, he blinked at her again. It was hard to tell with that strange glow, but behind it Lark swore she saw a twinkle in his eye.
________________________________(I had to add that picture, just for a visual reference. XD)
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