Another girl. Of course. She could never just have someone, could she? She could never just.. have happiness. She could never be happy. It seemed all those possibilities of actually having a good life were being snatched right under her nose. Now Littlestar didn't believe in any god but this was just fucking ridiculous. But she didn't want to wallow in self pity. Her Dad wouldn't want that. Neither of her Dad's would. She knew that. But even so, she felt a deep burning in her soul that for once was not rage and instead hopelessness. The dark grey tabby had started crying after Jaune said that. She was ashamed, burning with it. But it was okay but she didn't think anyone had seen, or maybe she was just kidding herself. The Monarch parked herself under a big green bush that was far away from the main camp and pressed her paw against the middle of her face. Her face was screwed up and a gentle breeze ruffled her long hair. At long last, the tears had stopped and her pity had been replaced with anger. It wasn't an unusual feeling, hell, it wasn't constantly there. But this time it was a rage at herself for being so ugly. She knew looks weren't everything. Well, she tried to tell herself that. But in the back of her mind was the little voice saying 'if you were prettier, you'd get more respect. People wouldn't underestimate you all the time. Maybe you'd have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. You'd have someone.' And awfully, it was true. If she looked nice as she once used to back as a tiny kitten in the Exiles, then she'd have a lover by her side, someone she could go up to and confess all her troubles to. But lately it just felt empty and bitter. She would never get someone like that. Littlestar just knew it. She was just too fucking ugly to be loved.
Littlestar wondered if Jaune was in the Rift by now, mourning his dead lover and caring for his babies. Once again, a feeling of guilt hit her. Why was she being jealous of a dead girl? She knew that no one would ever know of her jealousy towards the dead female but even so, the guilt ashamed her. Another breeze warmed her face and she stood up, cursing and hissing as the top of her head smacked into the overhanging branch. She crawled out of her little tear-den and headed towards the Shrine of Hawkclan. It was tucked far away from the main camp but she found it easy to locate. She had been here since she was a little kitten, after all. The female sat on the edge of it and stared long and hard at her paws. She had no belief in a god but right now, she wanted to tell anything about everything. The tabby leaned forwards and pressed her forehead against the cold white marble. "GO AWAY." Littlestar sharply leaned back and stared at the shrine. Had.. had it just spoken to her? She narrowed her eyes and breathed out harshly. Of course not. She had probably been so desperate to talk to the unsentimental object that she'd imagined that damn voice. Her scarred face twisted into a scowl and she turned her head to the right.
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