Disclaimer: Animorphs and all of that other stuff are property of Scholastic Books…blah, blah, blah, you know the drill.
PROLOGUE
I guess I should start with my name. It is Estrill-Mariel-Gahar. I prefer Mariel. It is less traditional than Estrill. Sadly enough though, we Andalites are a traditional people. To get on with the story…you'll want to know my age, who my parents are, and all of the other things that define an Andalite female. That is what I said, not an individual, but a female. The Andalites are still in what you humans call "the dark ages." In our society, females are not as valued as males, our personal comforts come after our husbands, and we are to be considerate, conservative, compliant, and most of all, subservient, even when we are being wronged. Who I am to most people is a measurement and a breeding prospect. I could waste all of your time with my lamentations, but I will push past my indignity and continue.
For all of the fact finders" that I know are out there, I am seventeen standard Earth years of age. My father is a renowned (not exactly popular) fighter pilot. His name is Breeyar. I expect that you have heard of him. There are few people I know of that know my father and do not have a remark, caustic or otherwise to say. My mother's name is not important. I will spare her the humiliation. She is the "perfect" female. Ever quiet and demure, she is rarely seen or heard. Even I, her own child, find her scarce when I need her. I have two younger siblings. A brother, the favorite (obviously) and a sister. My brother is the youngest of the three of us.
My relationship with my parents is not what most people would hope to have with their child. Instead of being the ideal daughter, primed and proper, I am opinionated, independent, blunt, and "technical." By technical I mean I do what I am told and nothing more. Humans commonly refer to a personality as mine as "smartassed."
Which brings me to my most recent relational strain. I have disgraced my parents in an unprecedented way. I am a run-away. I fled a common ailment of the Andalite female called Arranged Marriage. My father, being the shrewd businessman that he is, set me up with the most prestigious man in my age range. I know what you are thinking…a match made in HELL.
I will walk you through a brief account of that fiasco and the events proceeding up until the present point where I am starving, filthy, and very uncomfortable.