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"

The last thing Mojito ever wanted was for his daughter to feel any of the self-doubt he'd grown up with. It had been part of his reason for his split from Asla, he adored her but his whole self-worth had been tied up in his feelings for her and he had to learn to love himself without her. Because his daughter deserved to feel that she was gorgeous, to never doubt that she was worthy of being loved. Mojito moved between the garden shed and his den regularly throughout the day, he spent the majority of his day and even some nights at the shed, moving slowly through the process of fully moving out of the den but for now, he was moving supplies back. He was trotting back towards his den when he caught his daughter's scent, and heard her sweet voice lifting in a call for him. "Here honey." He called coming up behind her and gently reached around from behind her to pull her into a hug if she'd let him. "What're you looking for love?" Speech

Holy Heck, thanks Kat!

Her father's calm and soothing voice called out to her from behind her, making the little girl turn in a flurry of tawny fur. Just like that, there he was, always right when she needed him to be. Satira gazed up at her father with crestfallen and pained eyes. She was growing like a weed, but she was still ever so small, just under half of her sire's height. The pup eagerly gave herself to the embrace her father pulled her into, burying her face into Mojito's silky fur—the same sort of fur that matched hers in texture and length—and did her best to keep from falling apart. Fatalises didn't cry. Fatalises didn't show weakness. She was supposed to be strong and confident, like her mother. She was supposed to be calm and rational, like her father. But inside she just felt... broken.

"Daddy, is there..." She paused, trying to keep her words from quivering with the emotion welling up inside her. "...is there something wrong with me?" She peeled her face back to look up into Mojito's, the crystalline tears welling up in the corners of those pale blue pools. She looked at her father's ears, bent and flopped like hers. There couldn't be anything wrong with them, right? She looked like her dad, and he was so composed and sure. She didn't voice the questions she had in her head just yet. She didn't want to give power to the doubts of why she didn't feel normal and why they didn't look like everyone else. It felt too much like admitting defeat, and she didn't want to make her father feel bad either.

"Satira"

He could see it, the pain in his daughter's eyes, and a wave of emotion crashed over the man. Hurt, worry and a fierce protectiveness that swore up and down that whatever had made his daughter look so damn sad would pay with its life. Satira easily pulled into his embrace and Mojito lowered himself to curl around the tiny girl, as if to physically shield her from the world and whatever it was that had made her sad. Her words tore right through his heart and Mojito pulled back slightly so he could come to rest on his stomach, be on the same level as his daughter and look her in the eye as he responded. "Oh baby girl, no!" He said it with so much force, so much conviction, and it was true. At least to him, she was the most perfect thing. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead before moving to try and rest his skull on hers, his voice soft and sincere when he spoke. "You are the smartest, hardest working, most precious wolf I've ever met." He pulled away briefly to look at her again. "And the most beautiful, even more than your mother, don't tell her that." He gave her a quick playful wink before his brow furrowed again. "Satira what made you think that?" He knew things were strained between himself and her mother but for her sake Mojito at least was trying to keep things civil, even if his frustration about how Asla seemed to be responding drove him up the wall, but some part of him worried that she had absorbed the tension, and had internalized it. Had thought it was somehow her fault. Speech

Holy Heck, thanks Kat!

No sooner had the words left her mouth, Satira felt her father's body tense, going rigid with emotion. She was shocked by the look of shock and hurt and protective anger on his face when he pulled back to meet her gaze on her level. Tira had never seen her father angry before! This must have been super serious for him to break his usual composure to show such emotion. He rejected her claim and reassured her so vehemently that it shook little Tira to her core and was the final push she needed for the emotional dam to break. The tears that had been welling up in her eyes spilled freely down her tan and ivory cheeks, only falling faster when she felt her father's forehead rest protectively over hers. She nuzzled her tiny snout up into his chin, soaking in the love and affection he showered upon her. Mojito's kind compliments made Satira smile. Her father always knew just what to say to bring a smile to her face. Her tiny puppy heart swelled to hear her sire speak so reverently of her, and he even made her giggle amidst the tears when he told her not to tell Asla that she was the most beautiful wolf.

Then Mojito asked what made her think these things. Once more, the red boy's words came back into her mind and her smile slowly sank from her face. Floppy ears folded back to her head, the ends dangling over the edge of her skull. She didn't want to tell her father about how she'd snuck out of Armada lands unescorted, but she didn't want to lie to him either. "I... I met a wolf a few days ago, by the border near the willow forest," she explained, sniffling back some tears and wiping the rest away with a minuscule paw. "He said... He said that I wasn't a real wolf because of my ears." Satira whined quietly under her breath, looking up into her father's blue eyes that mirrored her own, seeking the answers only he could give her. "Is it true, Daddy...? Are we not real wolves because of our ears and our fur...? How come we look so different to everyone else?"

"Satira"

Satira's little giggle helped to soften his worry though it would quickly slide back in when his daughter started to explain to Mojito what had happened. His eyes narrowed for a moment at the mention of this other wolf. He sighed, he had known it would only be a moment of time before she ran into someone but he had hoped to avoid it for as long as he could but it seemed she had stumbled her way into having to be made aware that some thought of her as other. He slid himself around his daughter, wanting to hold her close, considering what he was about to tell her. "Satira, you are as much a wolf as anyone else, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He made to meet her small tearful eyes, his words strong. "We look 'different' because my dad, your grandfather, looked different." He paused for a moment placing another gentle kiss on his daughter's head before beginning again. "I don't like to talk about my family much, but you're as much a Klein as you are a Fatalis. My mother, she was unlike any Klien to come before her, brilliant and also able to see beyond what someone looked like. My father, your grandfather, was not a wolf. He was a dog. But my mother, she saw the potential in him and loved him anyways." He paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to phrase what he was trying to say, his daughter could not be shielded from the bigotry of the world, not anymore but he did not want to worry her overmuch either. "Now, my aunts and uncles, they didn't like that too much so eventually I left to join the Armada. Your grandfather, he's a smart man right? Strong and wise. And he gave me the same chances as he did anyone else and now look. You're old man's not too shabby huh? Lead healer, pretty good right?" He tried to meet her eye again, desperate to impart what he was trying to tell her. "Tira, we are not defined by what others think we aren't. Our actions and our words are all that matter. And you're more wolf than anyone preoccupied by things like the shape of our ears," he gently ruffled her ears then flopping them playfully, "or the texture of our coats." With a mischievous smile he ducked his head to nose at her side trying to tickle his daughter, wanting to help to cheer her up. It had taken him years to realize the words he shared with her now, Mojito could only hope he'd learn from his pain and be spared it in kind. Speech

Holy Heck, thanks Kat!

Satira shifted her tiny body to settle more comfortably into her father's when he slid down to wrap himself protectively around her. She appreciated the closeness of the cuddle; Satira had always been fond of physical affection as a means of showing love. It made her feel safe, wanted, loved. Nestled into her sire's striking white fur, she kept her teary blue gaze up on his face while he began to speak, explaining to her the things a child should never have had to worry about. He began by reiterating that she was as much a wolf as anyone else. Firm, strong, resolute words. It was easy to believe him when he said it like that. Then Mojito began to explain her heritage to her, starting with her grandfather, Mojito's father.

All the while Mojito spoke, Satira lay into her father's side, enthralled with his story. The other side of her bloodline that she never heard about. The family Klein, that was what she was as much as she was a Fatalis. The story of her grandparents' love story was touching. The revelation of why they looked different came to light then. Her grandfather, her father's father, was not a wolf, but a dog. Tira furrowed her brows in confusion. She'd never heard of a dog before... But if he wasn't a wolf, didn't that mean the boy in the woods was right? She wasn't a full-blooded wolf like her mother or brother, or any part of her Fatalis family. Mojito explained how the Klein side of their family didn't like the fact that they were wolf dogs, but Sirius had given him a chance the same as anyone else. Satira couldn't resist the proud smile creeping across her lips while she stared up at her dad, the lead healer of the Armada. She was always so proud of him and his station. Between him as lead healer and her mother as the Reaper, Tira had always felt like there was nothing she couldn't accomplish.

The most important lesson came when Mojito explained how the value of someone is determined by their actions and words, not the bloodline they come from or how they look. The fawn-furred girl sniffled back some fresh tears, but already she was beginning to feel better. She'd never really put any thought into why she looked different from all the rest of her family until she'd been teased for it, but having the answers helped her to understand the why. But it did bring with it all new questions. Satira giggled softly when Mojito ruffled and flipped the ears on her head that matched his, then burst into airy laughter when his cold nose dipped through the silky fur on her side to find bare skin. The pup squirmed and flailed her paws amidst laughter, beaming up at her dad with love in her tear-sparkling eyes. He always knew how to make her feel better, a quality she'd never take for granted ever again, not after she'd seen what had happened to Naiche. Satira couldn't bear the thought of ever losing her dad.

"Thank you, Daddy. I love you," she said and moved to nuzzle her face into his shoulder, soaking in his warm and loving presence. "You're never gonna leave me... right?" Although she didn't say it out loud, Naiche's death had shaken her foundation of what she thought was stable. Tira wasn't unfamiliar with death; she'd eaten plenty of prey they'd hunted and she'd nearly been killed by the giant snake—but the thought of one of her parents dying had felt impossible... until now. She peered up at Mojito with big pale blue eyes, looking for reassurance. And while they were on the topic of the unknown... "Um, Dad...? What's a dog?"

"Satira"

It was a massive weight lifted off his heart when it seemed Satira was cheered up, giggling as he tickled her gently. He squeezed her tight his embrace saying how much her cared just as much as the words he told her, how many times had he told her he loved her? It felt like every time he saw her, but somehow it never felt like enough. "I love you too Satira." He told her for the thousandth time. The next question... It made his heart drop suddenly. Gods. If Naiche wasn't already dead he'd have killed the man himself for what it had done to his kids. "Honey, as long as it's within my power I promise I won't leave you." Some part of him hated the sneaky way he'd had to phrase it. But he wasn't willing to lie to his daughter, he had no way of knowing what could happen. He had no intention of dying but obviously he also didn't think Naiche had meant to either. But that thought was quickly banished as another question popped up, and despite himself and the darker turn his mind had made Mojito couldn't help but laugh. "Dogs are a small species of canine." He started to explain. "Usually smaller than wolves anyways." He gently placed a kiss on her skull. "Dogs come in even more varieties than wolves here do, everything from their height and size to their tails, ears, coats and even build. My father, he was a type of dog called a border collie, a proud group of dogs that often work as herders." He gave his little girl a wink. "So if you ever feel the desire to circle and herd Hoa let me know, he'll be happy to play along." Whether his sheep companion was actually happy was up for debate but he knew his companion would not say no. Speech

Holy Heck, thanks Kat!

Her father's vow of love and reassurance that he wasn't going to leave her so long as he had any say in the matter helped ease Satira's uncertainties and worries more than anything else. Even if she was too young to understand his surreptitious meanings behind the way he'd phrased it, what mattered was that he was here and he wasn't leaving her. Satira sniffled back the last remnants of tears from her eyes, cuddling into his tighter embrace all the more eagerly. She loved her father so much, just as she loved her mother with all her heart. Her family was the most important thing in her world. To know that there might be a possibility of losing any of them, or having her family fragment, it twisted Tira up inside.

Her darkened thoughts were swept away when Mojito laughed, the sound bringing another smile to Satira's lips. He began to explain to her what a dog was—a smaller canine with many more varieties to them than wolves had. They could have many different traits that made them unique. Her and her sire were part border collie. Border collie. Satira rolled the name around in her head, adjusting her mind to the concept that she was more than just a wolf. They were a proud breed that worked herding livestock. A roguish grin split the pup's face from ear to ear when Mojito winked and gave her permission to herd Hoa if the urge ever arose. She glanced over at the woolly sheep, feeling no instinctive drive to begin chasing him—not yet, at least, but she still had some growing up to do!

Satira leaned happily into Mojito's kiss right between her floppy ears. Surrounded by her father's protection and warmth, Satira felt nigh on invincible, as if nothing could ever harm her so long as she had her parents. "Thanks, Dad—for everything," she spoke, her voice a soft lilt. Tiny fawn-colored face nuzzled into Mojito's fluffy chest. She was already feeling much better than she had been. "I'm glad there's nothing wrong with us. I really like our ears and fur." As if emphasizing a point, Satira ran a paw down her growing fur, trying to smooth out the fluffy silkiness that would no doubt evolve into a stunning longer coat once it grew out of its fluffy puppy phase.

"Satira"