My fur is prized, coveted, envied, wished for, desired, rare, invoking hours of search and planning. Every pokemon wants it. Every pokemon wants to be me because of it.

And yet I hate it.

Why did it have to be me, out of the hundreds of vulpix in the world, to have this coloring? I ask this every night. I stare up at the stars and ask, "Why me?"

Because being shiny is not a blessing.

It is a curse.

Trainers come searching for me. They don't give up. To survive I must be strong, stronger than anyone else. Stronger than the trainers' pokemon. Whole teams of them, six on one, their trainers fingering ultra balls, me fighting, struggling, fleeing. I train as hard as I can day by day, because I must be the best if I will be free.

I don't have friends. I have had them before, companions who travelled with me. But they abandoned me when they learned how dangerous it is to be my friend, or were caught before they could learn. I stay away from other pokemon now, leading a solitary life.

To me, being captured would be the end. I would rather be dead. Fighting for some cruel master who stole my freedom, against other pokemon who have suffered the same as me, and for what? My trainer's amusement, my trainer's pride?

I will fight to the very end.

And I will hate my fur to my very last breath.
_

A/N: Rather short oneshot, but I thought it was pretty good. I wrote this at least 3 months ago and decided to post it, then never got around to it. Then I completely rewrote it on the bus today. So, what did you think?