Houseplant

“You cannot escape that you are a woman,” she began.
“I wish I could,” Firekeeper muttered, but Elise continued as if she hadn’t heard.
“Since you cannot, you cannot escape the expectations that our society and our class places upon women.”
“Why?” Firekeeper said querulously.
“...Consider,” she offered, “what you told me about learning to see at night so that you could hunt with the wolves. Learning to wear a gown, to walk gracefully, to eat politely…”
“I do that!”
“You’re learning,” Elise admitted, “but don’t change the subject. All of these are ways of learning to see in the dark.”
“Maybe,” Firekeeper said, her tone unconvinced.
“Can you climb a tree?”
“Yes.”
“Swim?”
“Yes!” This second affirmative was almost indignant.
“And these skills let you go places that you could not go without them.”
Stubborn silence. Elise pressed her point.
“Why do you like knowing how to shoot a bow?”
“It lets me kill farther,” came the answer, almost in a growl.
“And using a sword does the same?”
“Yes.”
“Let me tell you, Firekeeper, knowing a woman’s arts can keep you alive, let you invade private sanctums, even help you to subdue your enemies. If you don’t know those arts, others who do will always have an advantage over you.”
“All this from wearing a gown that tangles your feet?”
― Jane Lindskold, Through Wolf's Eyes