Dragoncrest Cliffs Sons of mine

Den why will I never get ta be Sapphique de way dat Mireille and Coraline get ta be Sapphique? he wondered, countering Njord's comfort that there was nothing wrong with being a boy. No one had ever explained the inherit sexism of Sapphique to him. He was born into it and it was all he knew. That did not make him unaware of its existence. He was not mistreated, but nor was he celebrated. Nothing made that more apparent than Chacal, gone for most of his lifetime, returning to be elevated over Hyacinth, a man who had been here all during her absence. Njord still stood over her, but for how long?

Dey are not missing out on anyt'ing, he said in a somewhat surly tone. Dey get ta go hunt de caribou an' Mireille goes wit' dem, like dey did not treat me bad. Dey get what dey want anyway. An' I get left behind because dey would not welcome me dere. An' still she goes wit' dem. Somewhere in there, Njord might be able to detect the want in him to be included and the pain of being on the outside. It wasn't Mireille's friends specifically. Witch and Heda were not bad wolves. It was how he felt like a burden in their presence, and how despite his sister's attempts at supporting him, he felt her slipping away from him.

He did manage a thin smile when Njord said he wouldn't change a thing. T'anks, da Njord. Dat might be nice, he said, rocking to bump his father gently with his shoulder. Up ahead, Loko disappeared into a burrow in the ground, only to emerge moments later covered in dirt. I t'ink Loko be more like ya. All adventurin' an' brave.