Russian Pet Names Novels & Stories

He had known when she married, had her child, and died. The truth dawned on Rhys. He turned his head to look at the wolf sitting next to him. "Katy is your third great granddaughter!" "And she is the image of my Orsolya." His face softened as he looked again at the glass picture, softly touching the image of his mate. "The name Kati means pure." He looked sideways at Rhys who was deep in thought. "She is pure Guillame, pure as the driven snow." His empathy for the mateless Were was short lived. His face hardened. "She will be my mate no matter what you say."

She chuckles at how ridiculous life has been to her lately. She thought he would help her, but only if she knew how life works, no one helps anyone. "I'm sorry Rosie.... I.." He gets cut off as Alex starts chuckling. "When did you start her calling by her name? Did you two perhaps start fucking as well?" Alex laughs hysterically.

“Hmm… how about, Mr. Rabbit?” He didn’t respond. “You don’t like it?” She asked him. “Oh I know, since we both own him, let’s just call him LuKa.” “Luka?” He repeated in question. “Luke and Kace’s rabbit. Lu and Ka. LuKa!” She explained. “What do you think?” “It’s not bad.” She bent down and spoke to their pet. “Hey there, LuKa! I’m Kace and this is your master, Luke. We’re friends now. Okay?”

“Do not call a bannik anything to do with soap. It is demeaning. Remember, I am Artic royalty, illustrious general of sticks up the ass.” Liliya fluoresced silver with laughter. She tucked her blue robe close round her shoulders. “What can I say? The nickname has caught on. And if I have a stick up my ass, you have Perun’s hammer up yours.” Iosif set Anya down. “Please, you two, you are speaking foul words in front of an innocent child!” The almost-toddler crawled towards Morozko and plopped herself down at his feet, tugging at his boots. “Yum yum?” she asked, her most recent word for food.

she simply said. "What should I name you?" I looked at it. I looked up some pet names on the internet. "What do you think of raspberry?" I asked Evonne. "Hmmm," she stroked her chin. "Cinnamon?" "Cherry?" "Valentine?" "Blueberry?" I listed out a few names, and I wasn't satisfied. "There could be many raspberries in the world. Whatever I own shouldn't be common," I sighed. "Gia," I sat straight on the bed.

He gave a little whine. "Is he sick? Why isn't he loud?" "He's probably shy, Ava, that's why he..." He started barking all of a sudden. "Alright, alright. I've heard you loud and clear, Doggy." Ava said. "His name is Rio." "Enjoy your day with him. Too bad, you won't be eating from the roast chicken my aunt made today, very spicy and smells nice. Let me not get started with the sides." "Not you too, Ava. My mom taunted me minutes ago with her roast turkey."

Removing two beers from the fridge, he hands one over to me and I open it. “What did you call me earlier?” I ask, still curious at the mysterious nickname. He smiles, then winks. “Lapochka? It means ‘little paw’, basically cute or adorable in Russian,” he says with a chuckle. I blush at the endearment but return his smile nonetheless. “Little? Does that make you older than me?” I jest, attempting to return his banter, but he only laughs. “That, and you’re tiny! Look at you, like a little rabbit in a wolf’s den. I’m 25, what about you?”

"It doesn't seem like good talk, does it?" "They're not saying anything that insults you, young master. If they were, I wouldn't be sitting here quietly listening." "Belka." "Pardon?" "What does 'belka' mean?" "It means 'squirrel'." The man answered with a puzzled expression. "...Squirrel?" Eugene looked at Alexander among the Russians. Squirrel? It seemed out of place as a nickname for someone they barely knew. Especially calling a grown man "squirrel"—that was quite a strange taste. But if he really was that Sasha from childhood...

He immediately started licking my face. “What should we name him?” Sienna asked, already scratching behind the puppy’s ears. “We need something strong,” River said. “Something that sounds like a guard dog. Brutus? Thor?” “Those are terrible,” Sienna objected. “What about something farm-related? Shepherd? Ranger?” “Ranger’s not bad—” “What about Clover?” Rain suggested. “Or Barley?” They kept tossing names back and forth while I held the puppy close and felt something warm and messy twist tighter in my chest.

I took a deep breath. " Probably because Russia has a large bear population," she explained. " What do you think? That we live with bears every day? " I rolled my eyes. She had the most ridiculous ideas about my country. " There's no use trying to fool me, Peter," she offered me a dangerous smile, "I'm sure you have a pet bear in Russia.” " I do? " I raised an eyebrow in amusement " And does he have a name?” " Igor," she replied with a thoughtful expression before smiling again, "You have a bear named Igor.”