Information

Shunkaku
Legacy Name: Shunkaku

The Graveyard Mortiking
Owner: Aperture_168

Age: 17 years, 2 months, 3 days

Born: February 13th, 2007

Adopted: 17 years, 2 months, 3 days ago (Legacy)

Adopted: February 13th, 2007 (Legacy)

Pet Spotlight Winner
June 14th, 2016

Statistics

• Level: 2
   
• Strength: 10
   
• Defense: 20
   
• Speed: 15
   
• Health: 10
   
• HP: 10/10
   
• Intelligence: 0
   
• Books Read: 0
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Stock Worker

My mother used to always tell me the story about how Fem became an angel. We were both sickly hatchlings, and she just didn't know what to do. She tried the doctors, even though she didn't like them at all. She was that desperate. They told her we wouldn't last, and for Mother to enjoy us while she could. Make what time we had together special.

She didn't like that.

So she kept looking, for years and years. She went farther and farther away, for longer and longer. But one day, she came home smiling! She found someone who could help us!

A... a magician I guess? Somebody with magic who said he could make us better than we'd ever been. Said we'd never be sick again in our lives, said we'd even be immortal. But he said we had to pay a price for it, aside from just money (and he charged a lot of money too), and that we'd know what it was later. He warned her. He told her she might not like what happened. But she didn't care. She just wanted her precious babies better. So she took us to see the magician, and he said some funny words over us. Didn't seem like anything much happened, but he said to wait. We'd see results in the morning.

Fem turned pink overnight, with her perfect little white wings on her back, and even a little halo! Fem hated it from the first minute. She tried to rip the wings off immediately, and she managed to make a good gash in one, but it just healed right up! Even if she took one off, it came back. Same with the halo. No matter how much she pulled, or chewed, or threw it around, it always ended up perfectly polished and back over her head.

Mother could never stop cooing over her. She said that was the happiest day of her life, having her little angel healthy again.

She didn't talk much about what happened to me. She didn't talk much about me at all after that day.

You see, I felt better. I wasn't sick anymore. But my skin was kinda dead looking. And when I got a scrape playing, it didn't get better. It just stayed all raw and red. Cuts didn't bleed either. I learned to stitch them back up with pretty thread, but Mother didn't like it. She didn't like to look at me anymore.

So I started to wear these pretty pink dresses! She'd have to like those. They were so perfect and frilly and sweet, and if I covered up enough of the scars and cuts with makeup or scarves, I looked like a normal little girl, didn't I? And then she could love me and be proud of me again.

But the makeup would always rub off, or the scarf would slip, and then she'd remember who I was.

Who she turned me into.