Swiftcurrent Creek by jove

"Why?" One word. One syllable. One question. There was a lifetime of reasons to be explained, but Tomahawk did not believe that she had the time to discuss her life story at length. She had been born a coyote, but raised a wolf starting only a few days into this world. Her entire upbringing had taught her to be what she was not, and so she was no longer scavenger, no longer what she had been born. Tomahawk had been shaped and molded, perhaps unfairly, to believe she was something she was not. And she still believed, no matter what all those around her thought.

“I do not look like a wolf on the outside,” she replied, “but I have always been one on the inside.” It answered both "why" questions, hopefully. She was not accepted due to her appearance, and yet she belonged with them because she was one of them. Tomahawk remained poised to flee, should the need arise. Maybe, just maybe she would not be required to scamper away.