Dovewing blinked open her eyes, head pounding. Rocks loomed in front of her, threatening to consume her at the slightest movement. "Wh... where am I...?" the pale gray she-cat asked the empty air. She sat up, wincing as her sore muscles popped in protest.

She flicked her whiskers, trying to remember what had happened last night to get her to this desolate place. Her ears swiveled around as she caught a sound in the corner of the cave.

"Where." The sound said, deep and scratching. The word was followed by a series of clicks and whistles. "Where." the voice repeated.

Dovewing's head whipped around, ears swiveling as she tried to pinpoint the creature as her eyes darted around, searching for the slightest bit of movement. "Who are you?"

"You." the voice clicked back. "Who."

Something moved in the corner of the cave in the shadows and Dovewings eyes latched onto it. But, however hard she strained, she couldn't make out the form of the creature.

"What are you?" the pale gray she-cat asked the creature, eyes narrowed.

"What."

Dovewing let out a growl of frustration. No matter what she asked, the thing kept repeating it, not answering her questions at all. "Can you at least tell me your name?" she mewed, trying to force her anger down.

"Name?" the thing asked. It clicked a few times before replying. "Name is..." it trailed off.

Dovewing's fur fluffed up. "Do you not have a name?" She saw the shadow shake it's head.

"Not... name." it replied.

The pale gray she-cat felt sorry for the creature. If it didn't have a name, then it most likely didn't even have a family. "Well, I can tell you my name. My name is Dovewing."

"Dove..." the shadow repeated. "Wing."

The pale gray she-cat nodded. "Can you come out so that I may see you? I won't be afraid if you have anything to hide. I promise."

"See..." The shadow appeared to hesitate before it stepped out of the shadows. Dovewing let out a strangled cry, scrambling to back away from it.

"Afraid!"the dark brown tabby Abover screeched, flapping his wings and kicking up dust.

"Of course I'm afraid!" Dovewing hissed, lashing out at his wings.

"Promise!" The Abover cried as it took off, flying onto a ledge out of Dovewings reach. He let out a series of shrill clicks and hiss-screechs as his hooked wings scrabbled on the ledge face in his fear.

"To the Dark Forest with that promise!" Dovewing spit at the Abover. "You killed my mate and countless others of my clan! And not only did you kill him, but you enjoyed killing him!"

The Abover cringed and attempted to press himself flat on the ground. "Not enjoy! Not enjoy!" it cried. "It who am! Not enjoy kill!"

"Oh, is that so?" Dovewing snarled. "Then why didn't- why haven't you killed me yet?"

The Abover let out a strangled gasp-like sound but otherwise remained silent.

"Well?"

The dark brown tabby only shook his head.

Dovewing let out an enraged and grief filled cry. "Then let me go!"

The Abover clicked and whistled. "Others kill you. Let you go, others kill Dovewing. Other's kill Dovewing and... and..." unable to find the right word, the Abover clicked three times and finished with a short whistle.

"And what?" Dovewing growled.

The tom hesitated before opening and closing his beak as through he were eating. Dovewing felt her heart sink and she collapsed onto the ground. "This is hopeless!" she wailed. "I'm going to die here!"

The Abover landed on the ground next to Dovewing. He wrapped his big wings around her, trying to comfort her, but pulling back as the pale gray she-cat let out a low growl. He settled down on the side of the cave opposite of her. "Is not hopeless, Dovewing. Will not let others kill you. Promise."

Dovewing sniffed. She looked at the dark brown tabby Abover. "How is it that you are speaking my language? All you would say before was-" Dovewingtied to copy his clicks and whistles, and the Abover looked extremely mortified.

"What you say kill, Dovewing."

Dovewing winced. "Sorry..." she shuffled her paws. "But, I mean, how do you know my language already? Is it, like, some sort of ability you Abovers have?" Dovewing shook her head in amazement at the thought. "You things are... tough for me tosay, but, you things are amazing!"

The Abover clicked and whistled before he winced. "Not things. Are the Skrichkonrakrns."

Dovewing blinked. "The Scratch the what now?"

The Abover snorted. "Call the Abover." he fanned out his wings before continuing. "Learn language fast only if you not die. If other Skrich- if other Abovers kill Dovewing, Abover will not learn language, will not say language. If you are killed by others, or other things, Abover will-"

"You will forget everything that you had learned." Dovewing whispered, catching on.

The Abover nodded. "And Abover will forget everything about Dovewing. Abover will be like other Abovers, and kill more mate. It will be hopeless for others like Dovewing. Abover will kill others. of clan."

Dovewing was troubled by this, but she was more troubled by the fact that the beast was referring to himself as "Abover". "We need to figure out a name for you." she mewed.

The tom looked troubled. "Is Abover not Abover's name?" he asked.

Dovewing's whiskers twitched in amusement. "No. And would you please stop referring to yourself in third person? Use words like 'I' or 'Me' or 'My'. Understand?"

The dark brown tabby Abover nodded. "Abov-" He cut himself off at Dovewing's scowl. "I mean, I understand."

Dovewing sighed. "Okay. What would you like to be called?"

The beast shrugged. "I haven't learned enough of your language to know what I will like to be called."

Dovewing's ear flicked. She observed his cat pelt, noting how it was stripped, like a tigers. "Okay then... How about... Tigerheart?" she mewed.

"Tigerheart..." the Abover said, trying out the name before he squacked. "I like it!" he flapped his wings. "I am Tigerheart!"

Dovewing purred. "Yes. Now get over here so we can work on your words."

...

So, in short, all of you were W-R-O-N-G. xp Birdflame, you were so close! You were only the suffix off!