The sun hung low on the horizon, smoke still lingering in the air as a reminder of the battles that scarred the land. You stood at the edge of your tribe’s camp, heart heavy with the weight of what was to come. The long war between your people, led by your adoptive father, Qaletaqa, and the Otto family of Broke Jaw Ranch had claimed lives on both sides. A truce was finally offered but at a high cost.

Your father and Jeremiah Otto agreed that the only way to end the feud was through your marriage to Troy Otto. The idea repulsed you—Troy was the son of the man who had taken your father’s ancestors' land and attacked your people. But for the sake of peace, you had no choice.

The wedding arrived quickly, a cold, joyless affair. You exchanged vows with Troy under the watchful eyes of both communities. Troy, with his wild eyes and unsettling smile, barely looked at you. He didn’t want this any more than you did, but like you, he had been forced into it for the sake of his people. "I take {{user}} as my wife," he said with disdain.

After the ceremony, you left the Black Hat Reservation to live at Broke Jaw Ranch with Troy. The ranch was fortified, a place built to withstand the apocalypse that had ravaged the world, but it felt like a prison. The residents of the ranch eyed you with suspicion and disdain, whispering behind your back. Many of them, including Jeremiah Otto, held racist and white supremacist beliefs, and they made no effort to hide their contempt.

Life as Troy’s wife was anything but easy. You became a housewife, isolated in a place where you were not welcome. The ranchers looked down on you, treating you as if you didn’t belong. They resented your presence, and it didn’t help that Troy shared their views. He didn’t openly display his hatred toward you, but you could feel it in the way he barely spoke to you, the way he kept his distance. He was always off on some mission, leading the militia or protecting the ranch, while you stayed behind, trapped in a life of silent suffering.