“Ain’t we all?”
Namir wasn’t sure if she was referring to the fact that she was pregnant, or maybe the sudden influx of coyotes, or maybe just something in her pack. Pack drama politics was why she’d only lasted a month or two at that Polka Dot place anyways. (Polka dot made more sense than Pooka whatever.)
That was life though. Shit happened, then you died.
That seemed too harsh to say to her friend though (she’d say it to anyone else, but Annabird was different – she named her for a hummingbird for a reason, after all), so she just stayed silent, waiting for the name. That it was a struggle did not bother her at all. She’d never… She didn’t…
“Nice to meet ya,” she said, voice suddenly harsh. “I’m gonna tell you a secret, Annabird. Lenae. Y’can’t tell anyone, okay? Only two other wolves know, an’ they’re dead.” She paused, realizing that sounded very ominous. “Uh, I didn’ do that part. Killin’ ‘em. My mama was one an’ she got…killed. I never did find out what happened.” A sigh. “Other one was th’ wolf I was named after but she was real sick when I met her. Think she died shortly after.”
It felt like her throat was parched. Tight. Like her voice was just rasping out. “My name, though. My Mama named me Namir Corvus Barreda. Namir, after her friend. Corvus, m’ father’s family name. An’ Barreda. Hers. But I ain’t none of those things, not really.” The words had started and they just wouldn’t stop. “I was born t’ the Crow’s Crossin’ pack. My father’s pack, Orin – but he had a mate, see. I was jus’…a punishment. T’ keep my Mama there an’ keep his mate on her toes. Like she was replacable, too. An’ me, I was…a thing, I guess. A tool. A Lil’ Crow. Get it? A Crow, ‘cos that’s the pack, I belonged t’ th’ pack. S’all I was.”
She paused for a while.
“An’ th’ thing was, Annabird. I was okay with that. I felt useful… ‘cos I had a job. An’ I did it. And I weren’t say he was proud, never effusive or nothin’, but I was useful, an’ that was almost better. Was okay.” Was certainly better than what he thought of her mother. That was the point. That was why it felt okay, she supposed, because she wasn’t ‘the worst’. Desideria was the omega, not her. And as a child, foolish and not yet wise to the world, she thought it would stay that way. Of course it didn’t, though. Her mother fled, and she had two options: find Desideria and bring her back to Crow’s Crossing, or become the omega in her stead. It really wasn’t much of an option, as far as Crow was concerned – especially that she would also be an adult in the coming spring, and that meant she would be a true omega. Things would change. She didn’t want her own ‘punishment’ trailing along after her. Not that she had friends (not then) to run to, or anything more motivated that she might need warding against, but the stakes were set, and her choice was made, and she came to Relic Lore.
And she was still Lil’ Crow.
And then she found the wolves, she found the runaway Desideria Barreda (or what remained of her), she found the wolves she’d been traded in for. Kajika was nothing special, as far as she could tell, and Namid was little more than a fragile old woman only a day or two away from withering altogether. That was what she was left behind for. It stung. Horribly. And she could have returned to Crow’s Crossing then, probably – she doubted Orin really cared if Desideria was dead or alive, only that she paid for the crimes committed against his pack and his pride. She could have returned and escaped the fate of Lowest. But she didn’t.
She remained in Relic Lore, and she remained Lil’ Crow. And then she saw her second spring and figured maybe she wasn’t so little anymore – certainly didn’t feel it – but still felt every ounce a ‘Crow’. That was just a word applied to her, sure, but she didn’t have any other ones. Namir felt strange and heavy in her mouth, like talking about some stranger instead of herself. Even admitting it to Lenae just now, calling it her name instead of ‘what my Mama called me’ felt almost like a lie, almost felt untrue. She wasn’t pretty or graceful or talented enough to be a Namir.
She was rough and hard and cruel, with dark, glittering eyes and hollow bones and a tiny bird’s heart in her chest somewhere, like a crow. And if she wasn’t one of those magnificent, thieving birds, she might well be a coyote. She was the right color, right shape. Even had the same lean, mean scowl and that desire to take anything that wasn’t hers. She didn’t feel like she ought to be a wolf, and certainly didn’t feel like she ought to be a ‘Namir’, named after a woman her mother honored and cherished. She wasn’t honored. Cherished.
Guh. Her heart hurt. Her chest squeezed and her ribs twisted around her lungs, holding them like a skeleton cage as she struggled to breath. The younger woman stared forward, almost blankly. She wished she could take all of it back, but she’d already told the truth of it. Her name. Her full name. No one knew that about her. No one at all. She wasn’t even sure why she felt like she ought to have told Lenae.
Namir sighed. “So uh, yeah. It’s a secret. Don’t… Don’t tell no one, okay? I ain’t sure if my father’s ever gonna come lookin’ for me but… If he does, I at least want th’ bastard t’ have t’ work for it, yanno?”
She wasn’t her mother. She wouldn’t just lay down and die.
Mine is the iron will.