Birds of a Feather

Traveling alone didn't really phase young Satira much. She'd spent the last half year of her life traveling the wild lands with her mother and brother and her mother's "companions". She wasn't exactly blind to the relations those wolves had with her mother, no matter how discreet they tried to be, and though she didn't fully comprehend the harem Asla had put together, she at least knew the three wolves were all romantic with one another. The fawn-coated girl didn't exactly understand why her mother needed so many partners, or why she wasn't romantic with her dad anymore, or why they'd had to leave the Armada and their family, or really the whys behind anything that had happened after her life had been thrown into chaos. Now her days felt like they were being filled just trying to sort through the confusion and uncertainty. Between her mother handling her own affairs, her father split between them and the Armada, and her brother still woefully depressed by the death of his father, Tira felt caught up in a whirlwind with no direction or foundation to her world anymore.

Perhaps that was why she took to traveling alone once she'd turned one. Solitude granted her a semblance of peace in her turbulent mind, allowed her to think unabated by the pressures around her. She could simply be—exist in the world for herself and take it all in while she tried to make sense of the nonsensical. Her wandering paws had brought her south today, past the brambly briar just below where her family had taken up temporary residence in the Fern Gulley. She'd made her way down the rocky paths along the sides of the fjord's mountains, navigating past sparse pine trees while she enjoyed Boreas' bright and sunny summer weather. The river flowing at the bottom of the fjord looked positively inviting; maybe she'd go for a swim to cool down before she headed back. With no direction or destination in her mind, Satira wandered, taking in the sights and simply enjoying existing on her own.

"Satira"