The Princess and the Prince

Satira wasn't breaking the rules by being out on her own, really. She was just bending the rules a little. Besides, rules were more like guidelines anyway. She'd only taken a few steps beyond the border of the Armada, and even then, it was only because she'd thought she'd seen some herbs on the other side of the scent markers, and knowing that her pack had needed to rebuild their supply stores, really this was her helping out the pack and doing them a service. Right? That's how she was justifying it anyway as the tiny fawn-colored girl wandered along the edge of the territories between the Armada's sea of grasses and the wilds of the willow forest, tiny paws crunching through the snow and leaving a visible trail of where she'd been. She glanced out at the droopy, alien trees with curiosity. What made them grow that way, she wondered? She considered asking her father, since he was the foremost expert on botany in the pack, but he was always so busy off doing his own thing. He barely had time for her anymore.

The thought made Satira more than a little sad. Mojito used to be around to come see her as often as he could, but lately he seemed... distant. Satira didn't see him with Asla anymore and it was like he was trying to avoid them. She frowned as her thoughts darkened. Had she done something wrong? She'd tried to seek him out a couple of times, but he hadn't been receptive to her. Did he not want to be her father anymore? Maybe she should ask her mother when she got a chance. Oh, but wouldn't that make her seem silly? She was a Fatalis girl after all; she had to be tough like her mother was and not let things get to her. She'd already felt weak thanks to the stupid snake, now she was going to go crying to Mom about Dad not being around? That wasn't very tough nor ladylike. No, she would just have to suck it up and hope she was being silly thinking these things.

As Satira wandered along the edge of the the willows, her eyes spied some marshmallow plants peeking out from beneath the thin layer of frost and snow. Beaming with her success, Satira bounded over to the plants and carefully brushed the snow from the delicate white and pink flowers. She was very pleased to see that, despite the colder weather of winter, the plant still seemed to be thriving, not yet dormant for the season as its blooms still held strong to its stems. While not a rare herb by any means, Satira knew that fresh living plants would be hard to find in the chill of winter, and she knew it could be used topically like her father had shown her, and also how it helped with teething. Arcturus had been having a bad time with his teeth lately, complaining about aches and pains with his jaw, particularly his two top canines. Surely he'd appreciate a little relief from the pain. Being the good sister that she was, Satira gathered up several bunches of the flowers, whistling for her falcon companion who came swooping down from the gray sky above.

"Take these back home for me, please," she told her companion, leaving the sprigs of flowers at her talons. The raptor scooped them up, then took to the sky again, obediently flying back toward the den. Satira watched her companion leave before turning back to the weird willow trees, looking them up and down curiously as she ventured further away from Armada territory and into the woods. She kept her guard up, reminding herself that she was very small and there could be some very large dangers out here. The snake was always at the forefront of her mind, a deadly reminder of the perils the world could throw her way. Satira was brave though—or perhaps just reckless—and she couldn't be compelled to stop adventuring. She was much like her mother in that regard. Headstrong and stubborn.

As she meandered through the fronds of several willow trees, Satira found herself coming across a small brook. The water babbled like a mellifluous chorus, and along its edges she saw some young horsetail. She smiled; another helpful herb to bring back to the pack! She was doing so well today! And all she had to do was ignore the rules! Besides, it wasn't like she hadn't been out in the world before. She'd gone on trips with Asla, she'd fought with multiple bears, surely she could handle a short traipse around the quiet winter forest. After all, what could she possibly encounter out here that couldn't be solved with the right application of charm, wit, maybe a flash of her status in the most powerful pack in the world, or a single howl? She was still close enough to the border that she knew if she called, her beasts of a grandfather and uncles would come running in a minute. Armed with that knowledge, Satira Fatalis was nigh untouchable. What was the worst that could happen?

"Satira Fatalis"