Whitefish River Wheat kings and pretty things

It was difficult to tell if Hieronymous understood, though the frown that grew along his features suggested otherwise. It seemed strange, unnatural even to see him with anything but the grin that usually plastered his maw. It was Ira's turn to frown as he finished, had it only been the one time? No, her failed crush was not what drove her to the conclusion. Her place had been ingrained into every fiber of her being. Disgrace had followed her since birth, even now she broke the traditions she strived to uphold, but how would he know of that? No one knew, not even Evergreen. Ira had fought for her honor, for her place and acceptance only to leave it all behind when she finally obtained it. It wasn't right, it would never be right as long as she stayed. Those laws did not claim the river, nor any of the Teekons, but a new home and a new name did not change who she was, it only changed her image to those she crossed. The Jeers and scowls that once followed her were replaced with caution and wary, for some a welcoming smile.

Only the Gods may control the future. Before the Constable had been alone, her sister the only soul she could trust. Her adoptive parents had been kind, but the underlying contempt did not escape her. However, if you had asked a younger version of herself, Ira never would have expected to form the relationships she has today. Those she could truly call friends and the wolves she looked up to. Perhaps she was just settling for a structure that no longer mattered, but it was the only thing she knew and despite its grip she had finally found her peace. I would be a liar to say that I am not capable of change. Even now my actions take me by surprise but do not think that I have given in from one mere incident.

Ira had always been a warrior, and she would always fight until her last breath if given the choice. Knowing when to fight, however, was another story. I have never been very sociable, not with personal matters. In-depth relationships have always taken longer for me to form, it's not that I swear off mateship as hopeless, it's realistic. Perhaps one day I'll be proven wrong, but life is short and I grow older. I count my blessings, though they be few, and with this litter, I can be a part of something I've never had. That much I am content with.