Blackberry followed her son back into the tunnel, feeling sore all over. The last few days had been filled with mock fights and lots of training. She was pleased, however. Her children were strong and, while some of them still struggled with fighting, she knew that they would come around once they had a taste of a real fight. Sure, there had been the fight with the bird, but Blackberry knew that it had been just dodging spells and ripping feathers without any meaning. They would have their first fights someday...she knew that Huckleberry had already had their first.

But Elderberry? He was strong and committed. Blackberry had taken him to be the weakest of her children at first, with such a strange figure and the quietness that put him in the back of her mind. But he was not only proving to be a competent fighter, but the one child she had observed so far that seemed truly ready. They would have to find an opponent for him soon.

She watched her son sit in his nest and walked up to join him, settling herself down beside him, pulling her wings to her back and shifting so that her claws elevated herself a bit. It was uncomfortable sitting on top of her stomach claws sometimes.

She looked over at Elderberry and gave him a look up and down, observing his growing form. Yes, he was a strange amalgamate, but she felt a flash of pride at her own features displayed in his body. His black neck and head, the quill-like mane, and that sparkling in his eyes. The thirst for more, the thrill of fighting. Yes, he was very much like her.

"I remember," she murmured, her eyes flashing as the past flitted through her head. The three gems she had harbored here, that she had chased and had been brought home. "Your gem was the smallest. Just a sliver of Blueberry's gem. But you grew so big when the lizard had taken you away. I couldn't believe my eyes when Blueberry brought you back to the tunnel. You are strong and you have grown well. I am proud of you, Elderberry. But you are so quiet," she added, almost as an afterthought. "What is it that keeps your voice?"

Blackberry waited patiently for Elderberry's response. As the silence lengthened, she suddenly realized how different she felt. It was always around her children that she felt this way - calm, peaceful, patient, loving, and not angry. Not even a little bit. It was strange and she knew it was only for her children, but she enjoyed this relatively peaceful time.

She listened to Blueberry's response and a glitter came into her eyes. She all of a sudden raised her head and let out a honk of laughter at the response, amusement sending her neck feathers shivering. She had not expected the response that he gave her, but she certainly approved of it and her laugh was not unkindly. She looked back down at her son, her eyes shining. "Quite right! Perhaps your Papa and I could learn a thing or two from you! We tend to boast a little too much. But you're wise for your age, Elderberry. You live up to your name."

She stared at her son for a moment, eyes narrowed as she contemplated some of his words, still curious about him. His answer certainly showed her a part of him she didn't know was there and she wanted to probe deeper. "Then what does make you a good fighter? Not training," she added with a flick of her beak. "What thoughts make you fight better?"

Blackberry narrowed her eyes at her son as Elderberry spoke, one of the claws on her chest clicking thoughtfully. What he described was, of course, what every smart fighter did before a battle. Althought Blackberry would be the first to admit that she did not often do this as well, preferring to throw her crazed power, her raw strength, and the fear her name, appearance, and natural weapons brought. She did not often care for thinking when it came to fighting and instead let the red of battle take control. Let the anger and the hatred surge forward, fueling her and filling the empty spots left by careful planning.

But she knew Elderberry was different. He had said so himself. But this was not quite what she was asking. "Yes, yes," she replied, dismissively. "That is a way of fighting. It is a smart way to face every opponent differently, use their weaknesses against them, but that's not what I mean. What thoughts drive you to fight? What boils in your blood when a battle begins?"

Perhaps this was beyond his understanding. After all, Blackberry had to remind herself that he had never actually fought anyone before. She closed her eyes for a moment and let herself be pulled back into the fury of a fight. "For me," she breathed, the scent of blood and fear in her nose as potent as if the events were happening right there in the tunnel, "it is the blood and the thrill and fear. I enjoy seeing my enemies suffer. Blood is what drives me into the attack, the taste of their fear fills me with energy. Fighting and killing is fun to me. I do it because I enjoy it and that makes me stronger then those who do not." She opened her eyes again and focused on her son again. "This is not something I can advise you on. You must find your purpose yourself. Without that, there's no point in fighting at all," she added with a twinge of disgust in her voice. As if her children would dislike fighting. They had her blood, after all.

Blackberry narrowed her eyes as Elderberry gave her his answer. At first, she was hesitant to feel pride at his declaration to want to make her proud. Was that his only reason for going into battle? For the approval of his parents? Well, it was certainly noble to want to bring fear and worth to the family name, but she wanted her children to experience battle the way that she did and the way that Blueberry did. To work only for the pride of the parents...that wasn't something Blackberry wanted to work with.

But then he spoke of the thrill and she knew he could hear it too - the words spoken through blood and cries and claws and teeth. The language of battle and death. Voices can lie, but blood can't. Blackberry considered this for a moment before leaning forward to look into her son's eyes. Green, like Blueberry's, and with no hint of lie. After a moment, she leaned back and gave him a proud nod, finally feeling the warmth that she had been holding back. He was truly her son. "Good. I am proud you have found your purpose in fights. That is what we are, the Bloodberries. We are those that find ourselves in blood and battle."

She let out a small honk of laughter. "There isn't any need to hope! You will! When I fight, I am truly alive! And when my enemy's blood spills, that is when my soul sings! There are many enemies in the caves to fight. We don't have to wait for them. We only have to find them." As she spoke these words, it came to her mind, once again, that she had not acted on her vengeance in quite some time. She had been so busy with her children and family, so busy with this new life, that she hadn't had any time to seek out her enemies. There had been the bird, of course, but she had not sought them out. No, she needed another target. Another victim.

Perhaps the wolf...Kera...I will get you one day.

Blackberry could barely contain her pride at the dead seriousness in Elderberry's voice. She had once felt doubtful that some of her children would grow up to be good fighters and she had feared that Elderberry would be the most distant of her children. But it seemed that she was wrong - he already seemed to be the most like her. She tried to think of who they could fight together and too many ideas came to mind. Maybe the wolf she fought in Canis? Or the cougar in the plant room? Or even Kera? Well, she didn't know where Kera was and, to be honest, she wasn't sure that two of them would be able to fight that demon of a wolf. There were others too, so many. It would take time to think about. She wanted a good target for her son's real fight.

She nodded to his request. "Yes, we will. There are many creatures in this cave that deserve to be pounded into the dust. We'll find one, I promise. For now, rest. You fought hard today." There was no point in getting up right then and there and searching for a target. They needed to rest and get ready for what was to come.