Wear It Like Armor

Following her encounter with the giant red wolf just beyond the borders of the Armada, Satira had been doing a lot of soul searching and self-reflection. While she didn't let any of the big bully's words get to her in the moment, when left alone to her thoughts, she couldn't shake them from her brain. The way he'd laughed at her while he flicked her ears, teased her for their strangeness and basically accused her of not being a real wolf because of her floppy ears and fluffier, silken fur and feline claws, it sunk in and made her begin to ask questions. Satira had spent a lot of time sitting beside the pond in the middle of the plains, staring down at her own reflection. Staring at her ears which drooped over and the midpoint and bounced about with every turn of her head.

Satira lifted a tiny gray paw and tapped one of her spotted ears, watching the way it moved. Her heart sank in her stomach. She'd never stopped to think about why her ears were different, or why she looked so unlike the other wolves. Everyone else had perfectly triangular and erect ears, but try as she might, she couldn't make hers stand on end like everyone else. And her fur... As puppy fur had changed, it had become longer and silkier than her brother's or mother's, distinctly different from their coats. Neither her mother nor her brother looked like she did. The only wolf she knew that looked remotely like her was her father. It made her feel different, but not in a good kind of way like she was special. It made her feel weird, like something was wrong with her.

Sniffling back some tears that threatened to build up in her eyes, Satira stared down at her own reflection with a frustrated snarl, slapping both her paws into the water as if she could change what she was seeing. The fawn-colored pup didn't understand any of it, but it was incredibly upsetting to the impressionable little girl. There was only one wolf who could answer her questions though—the one who she was looking more and more like as she grew up. Climbing back up to her feet, Tira made her way across the plains to her father's den, poking her head inside and sniffing about to see if he was in right now. "Daddy...? Are you home?" she called in to the den, desperately hoping he wasn't too busy to see her.

"Satira"