Most of my youth was spent with Father, my brothers, and ranch hands caring for our land and horses. Aside from a few scattered moments alone together indoors, most of my memories with Mother involved her overseeing me and my brothers in some practical endeavor; namely, how to defend ourselves. Father did not like me and my brothers fighting each other so much, even though it was supervised, but I assume he and Mother had come to some kind of agreement. She pushed my brothers hard, and me harder. Eventually fed up with her reprimands, I decided to become quicker than my brothers. I might not have been the strongest, but I never submitted without a fight. I often managed to catch my brothers unaware, when their guards were down—when they thought I was contained.
My relationship with Mother
