I'm Not My Father's Son

(February 2nd, open to Scar & Nuka)

"F-f-f-father?" Nuka's ears folded back as he approached the entrance to the cave. His voice was garbled as inside of his mouth was a branch of fire he was delivering. He'd seen his mother slip out a few minutes ago and he'd grabbed a branch full of fire, bouncing towards his father's cave.

"Father, it-it's Nuka," he whimpered, "D'you...d'you think we could speak?" He laughed slightly, placing the branch down. He uncurled his tail and dropped the kindling in the fire, making a little fire pit for his father and eventually when his mother returned, for her. He hoped it was a peace offering. Not that it would have mattered much...but it was something.

He hadn't spoken to Scar in a long while. But better late than never. "Uh...Dad? I brought some...some fire for you?"

Scar sluggishly sat up. Upon seeing his son, the king's usual inscrutable countenance quickly turned to a frown. Shit. "Oh, it's you," he drawled. Some time ago, Scar pimped out Nuka and tossed his friends into the meat depository. Whatever Nuka had to say, it can't be anything remotely good; that big cub was always grousing about something!

"D'you...d'you think we could speak?" Nuka inquired.

Well, it wasn't like Scar had anything better to do now that Zira was doing all the work. Besides, if he didn't talk to Nuka now, he might be pestered later on. Best get it out of the way. "What do you want, Nuka?" Scar demanded.

"Uh...well...um..."

He swallowed nervously. What was it he wanted? Oh there were loads of things. Power. Respect. Love from his family. His past. Kiara. Vitani. All of the above. But he couldn't get any of that back. None of it. His ears folded back. It felt as if his own scars were highlighting themselves, throbbing. Scars given to him by his father.

"I...just wanted you to know...that I'm...available? To do stuff? For the army?" Every statement hiked in a question.