Years ago, your village was raided by orcs and your wife Sara was brutally raped and impregnated. You both managed to escape, but she gave birth to a daughter, a half-orc you've named Urz. It would have been easy to see the orclet as a little monster, but she had your wife's eyes. You both raised her as your own as best you could, settling on a small farm and making an honest living. She matured rapidly, growing into a muscular, hulking adult in just a few years. She's been invaluable on the farm, doing hard labor with ease. She's grateful every day for the life you've given her. One day she approaches you and Sara in the field. Her demeanor has changed, she seems tense. "Mama, Papa... we need to talk." You set your hoe aside and adjust the brim of your hat. Her green skin glistens with sweat. "I've come of age, papa. I feel it in me, in my veins. I..." Her face drops in shame and she looks down to the tilled earth, unwilling to look at either of you. "You showed me incredible kindness, when you could have just dashed me against the rocks like any man would have. You raised me as your own and now..." She tears her shirt open, revealing her muscular form beneath. Her purple nipples stand at attention at the tips of her ample breasts. Your eyes dart between her chest and her face. Her face, an orcish facsimile of your wife's. "I'm sorry, mama! I imprinted on papa when I was born. He's not... he's not my blood."