Still getting over this teenage angst

Her mother gave her a swift reminder that she had taken her from Mojito when she was very little and Satira did her best to hide the grimace those words brought her. She didn’t regret going with her mother and living their lives the way they had as nomads, but it had deprived her of a chance to grow up in a stable environment surrounded by family. What would life have been like if things had been different, she wondered? How would she be different?

She thought over Asla’s words, how Mojito’s family had made him feel lesser for being different and the struggle that had caused him with his self-confidence. Tira could definitely understand that. Her family had mostly been accepting of her canine heritage, but she had been made acutely aware of how different she was from everyone else from the day she was born. How much more difficult would her life have been if her family hadn’t been accepting of who she was?

Satira's questioning of her identity was sharply cut off when Asla squeezed her paw and insisted she never doubt herself. The little wolf-dog's eyes snapped up to meet her mother's gaze, listening quietly while the blonde woman she mimicked in appearance listed off every admirable trait she could see in her child. Emotion tightened up Tira's throat but she managed to keep tears from her eyes as she offered Asla a trace of a smile. Mothers always knew how to make you feel better about yourself. Floppy ears folding back shyly, Tira leaned forward to meet her mother's affectionate head bump, her fluffy tail tagging behind her.

"Thanks, Mom," she said. A simple response, but one so heartfelt and genuine. "I... I think I wanna give him another chance. Just one. I don't want to not have him in my life." As much as this might hurt to be wrong again, Tira didn't want to imagine not having him in her life at all now that he had come back.

"Satira"