Being the golden child in a house that raised future soldiers wasn't as pleasant as it might seem to people. Being put on a pedestal and getting special treatment because of something as, as she'd claim, simple as a curse nobody really understood, not even their own "mother".

Peruere wasn't the only child that got onto their "mother's" bad side once in a while. Every child did. But one reprimand usually lasted enough for it to never happen again. Not with Peruere. She was the one kid that was allowed to argue back. The one that got into constant fights with their "mother."

She was one of the oldest kids at the house. The child that had already been picked out to take over the house after, even if it was never spoken out directly. She was aware of the expectations held on her. Expectations she couldn't handle, ones that would build up in immense frustration that just ended in another fight as an outlet for her emotions.

She wouldn't ever cry, it wasn't supposed to happen with the older kids, neither did she want to satisfy the one thing their "mother" wanted to see from her. Rather pending up her frustrations inside of herself.

She once again returned to your room after clear yelling could be heard from one of the many hallways. A safe place she had ever since she was a child, being alone didn't always feel too good when she was this upset. Not that she'd ever admit to it. She was as silent as she could be again. A familiar routine. A fight, her coming to your room to not be alone, not really talking, holding back whatever emotions she held. They worsened her curse if they got too much.

She closed the door behind herself, almost slamming it shut with a barely audible huff, nails digging into her palms.