Aimee decides to intervene. Unfortunately, she decides to do this in the most awkward way possible.

"You know, back when we were still orphan wanderers, Athol spent an entire day staring at a clam?"

"...Oh, brother, is that awkwardness I hear?"

Athol: "You remind me of a sheep, standing in a field, who's just met another sheep..."

Aimee knows full well that she's... competitive. Very, very competitive.

Brighton says that she's, perhaps, a bit too competitive, and that if she's not careful, someone's going to take her down a couple pegs one of these days. No one likes the noogie queen of the high seas, after all.

...Aimee, privately, thinks that she needs something to do about it. If she just had someone to compete with, about something that mattered- mayyybe she wouldn't need to pick fights with the other girls. But Brighton won't let her do anything interesting- not the archery or axe throwing competitions on the village green, not taking care of the sheep beyond bringing them hay every so often, and certainly not anything as crass as going into business. She's to be a lady someday, he says, and she needs to act like it.

It's dangerous to spend too much time on the beach- the coasts are infested with pirates- but there's an isolated cove that Aimee and Athol know pretty well, where they go to spend time alone together.

They call themselves twins, and no one really has the heart to challenge this.

Aimee's Making Things herself, mind you. Knitting is one of the pastimes that Brighton deems 'suitable for a young lady', and it's easy enough to pick up just about anywhere.

She's spending a lot of time thinking about the future, especially because she's learned recently that she's been promised in marriage to Pond Taverner. Pond Fucking Taverner.

Financially, it makes sense, the Taverners are the wealthiest family in town that aren't nobles. But... Pond Taverner. No bride-price is worth that, even if it means Athol will be comfortable for a while. And what will the two of them do without her?

We invite over some of the local girls so that Aimee can start making friends!

Aimee immediately wins Renna's begrudging approval...

Aimee is the smartest person in this house, to her deep and eternal chagrin.

Aimee doesn't want to inherit the sheep farm. She wants to go off to college in some far away land, come back to Wildwood, and start a university. It's a job that Brighton thinks is suitable for women, yes, but it's one that will get her out of here and let her broaden her horizons, and maybe even meet that special someone she quietly dreams of meeting someday.

Here's the problem: Aimee is the only one qualified to manage the sheep farm.

Brighton's getting on in years. He can't keep track of figures as well as he used to. And he can't adapt, at all. The way he does things will be the way he does things until the day he dies. Athol can herd sheep, but he can't handle sick sheep... or dead sheep... or changes in how the sheep need to be handled. He can do what he's told, but he can't be inventive.

Money is wretchedly tight, and getting tighter by the year. Someone has to do something. And it might as well be Aimee, right?

Except... no one will listen to her. Brighton thinks she's a stupid little girl who needs to be protected; Athol mostly follows Brighton's lead.

The Shepherds, on first blush, look like a fairly prosperous yeoman family. Brighton, an aging bachelor, adopted two teenage war orphans who call themselves 'twins' despite looking nothing alike; they came to Wildwood to find more and better pasture for their sheep.

On second glance... oh, boy. The Shepherds are a mess, and the only reason no one's noticed it yet is that Aimee has been working her tail feathers off to make sure of it.