Love is stronger

So far, their new life out away from the Armada hadn't exactly been the wonderful adventures she'd been hoping for. As soon as they'd left, the eternal night had struck and shrouded the land in creepy and scary darkness. The glow that had once been mystical and bewildering to her became terrifying, and Satira spent almost all of her time hiding in the den with her family out in the woods. Through the darkest parts of the night, she wished they could go back home, back to the way things were, but it was too late for that now. She had to be brave, and strong, and supportive for her brother and mother. Her father had done the best he could for them—at least that's what she told herself—having to split his time between them and tending to sick wolves in the Armada. Tira wished he could have just stayed with them. Then she'd know he was safe and not going to die like Naiche had.

Eventually, the horrors of the night ended in the blaze of the rising sun. The world returned to normal. Satira finally allowed herself to leave the den again, wandering the woods near where her mother had set up a den of sorts in some gnarled trees. She was growing, almost an adolescent by now, and as the days crept closer and closer to her first birthday, it became obvious that little Satira would likely always remain little. She didn't care, of course. When she was with her parents, she felt like just the right size. Tira was milling about out in the sunshine, letting it warm her tawny coat all over while she rolled in the grass. Her mother was absent, off somewhere with her two new lovers most likely (yeah, she knew about all of that by now), leaving Tira and Arc to themselves. Her brother was off hunting insects and small critters, and she... she was just bored. She wanted to do something just to feel like she wasn't wasting away her time waiting for the next big thing to come to them. Little Tira was far too proactive for that.

"Satira Fatalis"