These are the days we won't forget.

“Hey, @Cleo,” the mottled youngster called out to her sister in a sing-song voice when she was sure their father wasn't watching, and turned to face her with a shit-eating grin designed to provoke. Should she gain the other girl's frustrated attention, emerald eyes would narrow to dangerous slits as she uttered, hushed: “fight me.”

Tail boldly flagging at her rear, Rea tucked her chin in preparation for any assault, hind limbs braced to steady herself against impact.


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Hieronymous was never too far from the young, especially when it was his turn to watch them. He found himself hovering around Rea more than the others as they grew older for obvious reasons to those who knew.

Only one was afflicted with his illness - one too many as far as he was concerned, and he knew that Ira felt the same way. Though he loved being a father, to have a complete family of his own finally and not one thrust onto him to create some bastard army incapable of feeling pain - there was a constant concern for Rea's mental and physical health.

He knew it wasn't easy for her. To want to be like the others, to play, to spar, to work without boundaries; but now more than ever he knew why his own parents did what they did. As unfair as it was, it was for her own safety.

And so when he heard the declaration, the challenge of a fight coming from Rea's mouth catching his attention; the High King was quick to move.

“You know very well that's forbidden.” Quickly he approached, bursting through the brush, careless as the twigs and sharp edges slapped against him as seafoam hues focussed on his rambunctious daughter. He couldn't help the anger fro bubbling up behind his words, no matter how hard to tried to keep his tone steady and gentle - but panic does strange things to a father.

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Unfortunately for Rea, who had swiftly ignored her mother's most recent warnings, the High King had been lurking closer than she thought. The mottled youth slackened her defensive stance and her eyes nearly rolled right out of her head as she emitted the most dramatic groan of defeat.

“Uuuugggghhhh,” she pinned her ears, hating that her efforts had been squashed for the millionth time, and she shot her sire a pointed glare. “You are all ruining my life!”

Ah, the joys of parenting teenage girls!


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Of course she would grow frustrated. Rea's little tantrum or eyeroll didn't come to a shock at all. Not letting her attitude gain any foothold here, he continued to advance without missing a beat. Approaching the unruly teen with a mild limp in his hind leg that was more evident with the slower gait of his.

“At least you have a life for us to ruin.” Despite his own frustrations, the High King offered some humour with a small grin of his at the dark comment he made. She may feel like a caged bird, but at least being caged meant she was safe. Safe from any life threatening injury she could easily shrug off until her body would fail. Safe from herself and others he knew all too well would love to take advantage of her not only as a teenage girl... but for her disadvantages as well.

As much as it could be seen as a gift, it was equally a curse.

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For months she'd only tried to play, to wrestle and find her true place among the hierarchy of littermates only for parents to put a stop to her efforts each and every time. Their interference set her firmly at the bottom, for with this behaviour her siblings could see clearly how she differed from them. They claimed to prevent her scraps for her own safety, yet all she felt was the crippling isolation it brought.

She wasn't special, she knew, no matter what Quicksilver might say to try and lift her spirt. She was simply a weak link in the Boesch chain, destined to remain in the shadows of her far mote impressive brothers and sister.

“This is no life,” she hissed, slumping down into the dry grasses and propping her muzzle atop an elbow; she huffed a dandelion away from her nose.


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Her frustration was evident and affected him more than the High King would let her know. After all, he had to be an example for her to follow - and if he showed to be upset and sorrowful, what would that mean for her to see? That their condition was something to cry over?

While she slumped over to rest in the grasses, he kept moving to sit next to his frustrated daughter. Pressing his nose against her nape before taking a seat at her side. He didn't retort just yet, and instead, let her have a moment with the last word. Her feelings were rightfully felt after all, and he wouldn't take it away from her without being a hypocrite himself.

“Rea... Why do you want to fight so badly?”

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She heard him, as was clear by the cant of a blue-grey lobe in his direction, but chose not to respond immediately. Rea quietly and grumpily considered the many ways she could answer her father's question: to become stronger, to assert herself over pushover siblings, to prove that she could.

Most of all, however, she simply wanted to fight because so many told her she could not.

Frustrated, the girl rose her head to seek the High King's gaze with a sharpness to her glare. “Because everyone else can, and you tell me I can't.”


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Rea would test them all and perhaps send her father to an early grave as he would never stop running after her to make sure she would live as long of a life as possible. Though she was mad now, he hoped that one day she would see through the eyes of her parents and see just how much they loved her; and that even if she was rightfully frustrated, there were reasons for it all.

He met her glare with a calmness of his own. Practiced as to not ruffle her feathers further by expressing his own frustrations and anxieties over the matter.

“Of course you can.” He started with a slow beat. Choosing his words in hopes it would convey the message properly. “You are mine and Ira's daughter, you too are strong.” He wouldn't let that sharpness of hers pierce him. “But you shouldn't.” A heavy sigh was released to help keep his voice steady. “Does that make sense?”

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Rea huffed, loudly. Life wasn't fair, and throughout her time in the world it continued to present new difficulties to navigate. Cleo and the boys did not suffer as she did, did not need to remind themselves to pee and be reminded continuously to stop gnawing their lips. They could wrestle and spar and train beneath their mother's guidance, while she was forced to linger on the sidelines.

“I don't wanna be different, dad,” she sighed, exhausted with the challenges she faced - including arguing her point with her parents. Ira's suggestion that they explore her desire to pursue the paladin skill had sated her only briefly, as still she tested her guardians' patience. “I just... why can't I be normal?”


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“I don't either.” He'd try to reassure her that they were in the same boat. That unlike him when he was young, Rea at least had a parent who knew what she was going through. The frustration, the difficulties, rather than parents who didn't know. Who couldn't know and every day was a new trial to see what he could or could not do.

“It was my biggest fear to pass on this curse to one of you. I'm sorry it did.” If the girl would allow, he'd press his head against hers. Both to try and comfort himself and Rea.

“One day I do want you to learn how to defend yourself, and others. But one step at a time. You need to know your boundaries first. How much a wolf can be pushed before it's too much.” He paused, hoping to gauge Rea's reaction before continuing. They couldn't stop her from fighting forever, nor was that good for her own safety. She had to know how to defend some day, but rushing through it was not what she needed. Perhaps her first lesson was patience.

“We can do that together, soon. But first, you have to learn how to listen. To your parents, and to the subtle cues of your body.”

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"One day", "know your boundaries", "learn how to listen" - she'd heard it all a hundred times before, and she was tired of it.

Lifting her chin and deliberately turning her head away from her father so he couldn't see, the mottled youth rolled her eyes to accompany the very dramatic sigh that spilled between her lips. She stared out over the rugged terrain for a long moment before she clacked her fangs at a piece of dry grass that lingered close by, so frustrated that she felt the need to bite something.

It wasn't fair. It would never be fair, and she wasn't ready to accept that her life was on hold until adults could say otherwise. Done with the interaction and wanting only to be alone, Rea propped her muzzle atop her forelegs and frowned to herself, sure to ignore anything else the High King had to say until she got the hint that she wanted to be alone.


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Rea made it very clear she didn't want Hiero around right now. So he wouldn't force it. Only hope that one day they could see eye to eye over this and come to an understanding in the end. Without another word, he slipped away. Not too much to leave Rea to her own devices and endanger herself, but possibly not be seen or heard and return as a silent, invisible guardian to the daughter he had unfortunately cursed with what he had feared the most.

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