Patience and the owl.

  Patience was a young girl. She was small for her age; in fact, she looked several years younger than she actually was. Her light brown hair did not past her shoulders, and it was always tied back with a small red ribbon; just the way her father tied it when she was little. She was twenty, and still not married, there had been a few fellows that showed interest in her; Jonathan, the innkeepers’ son was following her for a short while. That is, until she kicked him where it counts. It wasn’t that Patience was not pretty; she was beautiful whenever she dressed up, which was a rare occurrence. She just preferred to look like a hard worker, which she was. Patience’s mother died when she was very young. Her father raised her the only way he knew how; like a son. Her older brother had his own family now and her father was now pressing to her to get married.
  “Daddy, don’t do this right now. The sun is setting and I still need to go into town for supplies.” She told the old man lying on a bed.
  “I may be blind, but I’m not death, I heard what you did to the innkeepers’ son. Jon is a good kid, and his family has money.”
  “That rat-face touched me!”
  “Where?” Her father asked as he looked in the direction of her voice.
  “…On the neck.” She told her father. She knew how stupid it sounded, but she did not care. Ben had touched her with out permission and the punishment for such an act was clear.
  The old man let out a weak laugh. He figured as much. He was proud at the fact that he raised his daughter right. After his wife died, Patience and her brother Ben were all he had left. He worked hard to let his children live as kids, but being a single parent was no easy task. Both his kid had to work at an early age, working with their father as a farmhand on the land of a wealthy family.
  Patience was raise with a good moral understanding and a strong backhand thanks to her dad. She had, at times, wondered what it would be like if her mother had not gotten sick. She wondered what would be different, if she would have been more like a lady. She winced as the image of her in a dress crossed her mind. She went over to her father and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be careful, I promise.” He told him with a smile and headed out the door.
  “Find yourself a decent man!” He called to her before he heard the door close. After a few minutes of silence the old man let out a weak sigh, allowing the pain of his aged bones to finally strike him one his daughter left. He hoped she found someone to take care of her one he was gone.