He was disappointed that day....my father....the day of my birth. My father had wanted a strong male son, but he had been given a daughter. He could have trained his son to be a strong aristh, and then a warrior...perhaps even a Prince like him someday, but no, he had been given a daughter. What made matters worse, was when my mother, already tired from giving birth too early, started hemorraging. There was nothing my father could have done. He was a warrior, not a healer, and my mother could not morph. Female Andalites were very rarely granted a warrior's ablility to morph. My father was now alone with me...the daughter he never wanted.
He tells me that he had made his decision the same night I had been born. Grieved by the death of his life-mate, his shorm, my father figured that he had nothing to lose. He would raise me as if I were son. He would secretly teach me the rituals of a warrior, and train me in the ways of combat. I would be the son he could never have.