In the short days following her release from the den, Satira had taken to exploring her world with a ravenous hunger for knowledge and fascination. Everything was so much bigger than she had expected, and the stories their mother had told them hadn't done nearly enough justice to the world. The rolling plains with grasses that almost totally obscured her from sight, the obelisk that stood as a proud monument to her family's empire, the willow forest bordering their lands. Most of all, Satira loved the beach and the ocean. She loved the way the air tasted salty and the sounds of the water as it crashed on the golden shore. She loved the way the sand felt between her toes and the way the breeze would rustle her fur and flip her flopped over ears when it was extra strong.

That was where Satira was today, walking paces up and down the beach. Her mother had given her strict instructions to stay out of the water unless an adult was with her, and while she didn't really regard rules as applying to her, she didn't want to take the chance of upsetting Mom. Mom looked so sad all the time, no matter how much she and Arcturus snuggled and kissed her. She didn't want Mom to be sad and mad too. She did get a little lonely from time to time though, especially since she and Arc were the only pups in the pack. Everyone was so much older and had jobs and responsibilities, so that didn't leave her with anyone to play with or hang out with. Already at her young age, Satira thrived on company and the attention it came with.

Satira walked down the beach, leaving a trail of tiny paw prints in the sand as she went, staring out at the sea. She wondered how far it went and what was on the other side of it. Would there be other lands to see? Were there different types of wolves elsewhere? Was there even another side at all? What if it just went on forever? Mulling over these impossible questions, Tira sat down in the sand and began to paw a strand of seaweed that had washed up, studying the plant's leaves like her father did. Was seaweed a healing plant too? Curiously, she took a bite of one of the leaves—then immediately spat up the salty, bitter taste. Nope, definitely not something she wanted to be chewing on!

"Satira Fatalis"

He could already tell that Satire was going to be a tiny one. There must be too much Mojito in her. She had started off the world as a jellybean, and hadn’t grown very much since then. The Warlord could fit the tiny we babe in the middle of his paw-pad. It was… it was astonishing and frightening and wonderful. It reminded him of when his own kids had been tiny little balls at their mothers' side. It hurt his heart to see her, but the love was stronger than the hurt.

He padded quickly along the sand. His large paws were almost dainty as they pressed to the earth. Holding himself as much behind her and quiet as he could, as the phonominally larger Warlord crept closer and closer and closer.


"Speech"

While she sat on the beach considering why seaweed would even exist if it didn't have any helpful properties—or any plant for that matter—the girl lost herself in the warm summer day at the shore. The lapping of the waves and the cries of the gulls overhead blocked out most of the sound her tiny developing ears could pick up. She gazed up at the white birds as they seemed to hover in midair, then cast her gaze down at the horizon line again. The sea shimmered in the bright summer sunshine like it were made of crystals.

A strong gust of ocean air whipped past her face, ruffling her puppy fur and her floppy ears while bringing a smile to her face. All she could smell was the salt air and she didn't hear the gentle crunch of sand from the giant wolf creeping up behind her, the little girl starting to paw idly at the sand and build it into small piles and forming little trenches out of boredom, quietly wishing she had someone to play with that wasn't Arcturus.

"Satira Fatalis"

As she watched the birds and built her sandcastles, the Warlord got into position. Pushing his weight onto the balls of his feet, he timed the right moment. As a wave crashed lightly on the shore ahead of them, and the birds squeaked above, a sudden roar rent the day. The mighty cry of a warrior in battle. Deep, and throaty and threatening.

As that cry sounded, there came also the noise of heavy paws propelling themselves of the ground, launching himself forward, carrying on that cry as he aimed to dive over Satira, and scoop her up as he flew over her,and hold her to her chest. If successful, he would twist midair and land on his back, clutching the little princess to his mighty chest.


"Speech"

A loud, bellowing roar shattered the tranquility of the day and sent a few of the gulls scattering. Satira jumped in fright, turning just in time to see shadow obscure the daylight and a massive black and white paw scoop her up by her midsection. Tira squealed in surprise and then she was airborne, her tiny body barely filling up the paw holding her. Gravity shifted and changed, dizzying her a little bit until the world stopped twisting and turning, and then Tira found herself being snuggled and clutched tightly to the broad chest of her grandfather.

"Papa Seer!" she squealed between fits of laughter and girly giggles, her tiny body wriggling in his strong grasp. Paws barely bigger than pebbles clawed and pressed against the planes of his chest while she playfully tried to squirm her way free, her tail wagging and betraying the fun she was having. "Heeeeelp! I'm being captured!" More giggles from the little Fatalis princess while she nipped and bit at the fur on his chest, grinning up at her grandpa with shining eyes, playful yet defiant.

"Satira Fatalis"

His manoeuvre was a success, and he landed with a soft ‘oof’ onto the sand, hitting his back and shoulders as he carefully cradled the small creature to him. She cried his name in a squeal of laughter, and wiggled against his paw.

He held his paw carefully locked above her as she squirmed. Then, with a grunt, he let his paw lift slowly, inch by inch, every time she squirmed and playful fought him. “Ahh!” he cried as his paw moved another fraction. “This prey is more powerful than I realised!” he bellowed as the girl scrambled to her feet, biting his chest and grinning at him. He let his head thump to the ground behind him. “Mercy, vicious Princess, Mercy!”

"Speech"

Although she was well aware that her grandfather's theatrics were merely for dramatic purposes, it still made her ego inflate when he surrendered and called her a princess. Satira adored all of the attention the adults fawned over her with, the sweet little darling lavishing in it whenever she could. But Papa Seer's attention was always the best. He was fun and funny, and he was huge and could carry her around in one paw or on his back like she weighed nothing! Tira loved her grandfather, as was evident from the way she beamed up at him in a fit of girly giggles while she squirmed for freedom from beneath his massive paw.

Once she had broken free, Satira gave a puppy growl and flopped across her grandfather's boat chest, barely large enough to stretch across the width of his barrel, she was so tiny compared to him. She gazed up at Sirius with bright blue eyes shining with love and humor, her needle-like puppy teeth nibbling through his thick fur. "No mercy!" she cried with a wide grin, her minuscule feline claws raking through his fur to barely even reach his skin, no doubt feeling more like a slight tickle than anything. Satira didn't hold back, swiping at Seer's chest with all her might until she'd left herself panting and spent, her little chubby puppy sides heaving with each breath and giggle.

"I missed you, Papa! I like when you come see us!" Tira said, nuzzling her face into her grandfather's fur while batting her sweet, sparkling eyes up at him in hopes of garnering more affection.

"Satira Fatalis"

She was a vicious little creeten. He wondered when her training would begin - and knew he would be taking a paw in it himself. They were Fatalis blooded children, and they would know how to fight. He growled and flailed as she attacked him, until she flopped, laughing, on his chest.

He raised a paw to cup about her, cradling her gently as she nuzzled against him and proclaimed missing him. “Your grandfather has borders to patol. They don’t guard themselves, you know, and I don’t see you lifting your weight and protecting our borders!” he jokingly chatisted, poking a claw gently into her stomach accusingly.


"Speech"

The little tan and white puffball of puppy fluff shot her giant of a grandfather a dramatic pout when she mentioned having to patrol the borders and her not guarding them herself yet. It wasn't her fault she was so small and not allowed to be out alone! He'd see when she was as big as him someday! "Just you wait, Papa! When I get as big as you, I'm gonna guard ALL the borders cause I'm gonna be a great fighter, just like you and Mom!" she declared, a proud look of determination on her little puppy face. "I'm gonna be the Reaper one day, like Mom is! Then I'll get to sneak attack you all the time instead!"

Did Satira have lofty and ambitious goals? Yes, yes she did. But she was a Fatalis princess. If she didn't set her sights on the moon, she would be doing a disservice to her family and her proud bloodline. She would be worthy of being called an Armadan Princess!

"Satira Fatalis"

He laughed softly at the girl's spunk. “I believe it” he agreed, amused that she would be so determined to be big enough to guard all the borders. She would soon discover how boring that could be. Or, if he was lucky, she’d be the one smacking the patrollers that were half asleep on the job.

He wiggled his belly to create an avalanche for Satire. “I’m getting up, you want off, or you going to crawl around to my scruff?” he asked as he began to slowly move. If she wanted to hang on, he would make sure she aiming to balance on his neck before turning.

"Speech"

The Fatalis princess wore a bright and proud smile when her grandfather declared that he believed her lofty goals. That was it, she was determined to be the best little warrior princess she could be! Feisty and fiery, but also sweet and diplomatic, attractive and alluring. She wanted to be the definition of perfection, and wanted all eyes on her when she walked in a room. The pride and honor that came with being a Fatalis, she would give it back to her family tenfold.

Her daydreams were interrupted when the foundation of dire wolf she was lying on suddenly began to jiggle and shake, threatening to throw her off. Satira squealed and laughed, having to grab onto tiny pawfuls of dark fur to keep from rolling away. "Scruff!" she happily declared, crawling her way across Seer's body and around his neck and shoulder while he shifted to right himself. Now up on his back, Satira took her place between his shoulder blades with her paws tangling in the dense fur surrounding his nape.

"Take me for a ride, Papa! I wanna see our world!" That was right, their world. Theirs. And hers. Everything belonged to the Fatalises and woe be to any who dared deny them. No other family could hope to compete with their glory or might!

"Satira Fatalis"

The little round-faced floppy-eared pup was a very cute kind of fierce. He could see it in her eyes, the fierce determination. That Fatalis pride. He chuckled softly, unable to resist planting a kiss to her brow.

Then he was moving, and she scrambled for his scruff, and then planted herself between his shoulder blades once he had finished getting to his paws. He gave a gentle little buck to tease her hold, and then he was off. “For the Armada!” he cried, as he charged up towards the tall grasses. Of course, from up here she could see well over them, and the territory of the Armada. The great big obelisk that he used for his centerpoint. The drop in land behind them as the territory turned to the Sea’s plains and the beach. Then he weaved along the borderline between them. Hopping up banks, and sliding down them. Making it a proper roller coaster for the young pup.

"Speech"

Her grandfather's bellow brought about a fit of giggles and a proud glare from the little wolf atop his back as she eyes the horizon. "For the Armada!" she shouted as loud as her little lungs could manage, and then they were off. Satira squealed with wild delight, bright blue eyes wide as she gazed around at their home from her new vantage point. She clung tight to Seer's scruff, feeling the air whip past her face and making her floppy ears bounce with every strong lunge of his body across the plains. No longer was she dwarfed by the high grasses, able to see for miles on top of her grandfather's back. She cooed with surprise and shocked amazement as she drank it all in. The sweeping plains that ran from sea to border, the high grasses rippling in waves with the wind, the obelisk off in the distance. This was theirs, all theirs, and she could finally see it all!

"Faster, Grandpa!" she cheered between light, girly laughs as he careened this way and that, taking her all across the land like it was effortless. His strength amazed the tiny pup. One day she would be as strong as he was, it was in her blood! She couldn't wait for the day when she'd get to race along the borders and crest hill and dale with ease. She was imagining leading training sessions down by the beach, holding diplomatic meetings beside the freestanding obelisk, chasing away invaders at their borders. What would like hold in store for the tiny Fatalis princess?

"Satira Fatalis"

He added on another burst of speed at her request. Almost recklessly he tore through the grasses, and then bounded along the beach once more. Breathing heavily as he finally began to slow. The heavy set Warlord could put on some decent speed, but he was built for short charges, heavy clashes, not indurance.

Panting, he paused by one of the training rings that dotted the beach territory. “Tell me, little avalanche, have your parents started you out on the stances for fighting?” he asked, stepping gently into the ring, his little limpet still clinging to his back.


"Speech"

Satira's giggling laughter grew even louder when Sirius picked up speed on request, thundering across the Armada lands like a big black missile. Tira loved the way the wind blew in her face and tousled her fur, making her feel like she was flying. All good things had to come to an end though, and before she knew it they were coming back to the beach, the familiar sound of waves and smell of salt on their air hitting her nose. "Thanks, Grandpa! You're the best!" Satira nuzzled into her grandfather's scruff in a little show of affection and gratitude for him taking her on a little adventure.

As they approached the training rings on the beach, Seer would ask about her training progress so far. "Naiche gave me a couple of lessons. Daddy isn't much of a fighter, so he teaches me medicine while Naiche teaches me and Arc fighting," she explained, running her paws and claws through his thick fur. "I think Mom wants to teach us as well, but she hasn't yet. She's been too sad. She's really sad a lot, Grandpa." Tira's ears folded to her head when she thought of how much she saw her mother crying when on her own. She didn't know anything about hormones or postpartum depression; she just knew her mother was sad most of the time.

"Satira Fatalis"

He raised a brow at the distinction. He wasn’t sure if both were ‘father’ interchangeably, but she was very specific in calling Mojito her father, and Naiche by name. He was curious what she thought of her sibling having a different father to her, but then perhaps that was all she had known. It would be a strange surprise for her later in life to realise her litter was not typical.

He was distracted from that thought by another. Asla, sad? She had seemed fine the times he had seen her. Sad a lot? he tipped his ears back, unhappy to hear it. “Does she say why, little one?” he asked, thoughts of training fleeing his mind.


"Speech"

Satira sighed and gave a shake of her head, tossing her floppy ears as she did so. "No, she's just not very happy when she's alone," she explained to her grandfather, still far too young to understand things like depression. To her, her mother was just sad. "She's only sad when she's at home though. When we're outside, she's happy. But sometimes Arc and I wake up and she's crying, so we cuddle with her and give her kisses until she's happy again." Tira was still learning how medicine and healing worked, but from what she garnered from cheering her mother up out of her depression, kisses and cuddles seemed to be the best medicine.

"Satira Fatalis"

He looked at the serious expression of the tiny wolf, and wondered how much of her mothers unhappiness she had been hearing. He didn’t like to hear that Asla had been suffering, and he also didn’t want Satira to grow up too quickly, taking on the burden of her parents. “I’ll speak to her, little one” he promised gently, wondering if Asla would talk to him about what was going on with her. She had seemed… content, after having children. It just came to show you how much you missed behind closed doors.

“But today, Satira, we are supposed to be having fun” He reminded her, leaning over to boop her nose. “How would you feel about learning some fight training?”


"Speech"