More bad luck. Just great. Nethea stomped towards a tree, her eyes blazed angrily at it. "Are you lucky?" she asked vicously. Today was the second time she had failed at catching prey. A squirrel had come bounding by, carrying a nut in it's grasp. Nethea, eager for food, chased after it, only to be run into a tree. Nethea layed down quickly, her mind roamed once more. Everywhere she went bad luck stalked behind her. Even the nicest of males seemed to reject her for that bad luck.
Why was it always bad luck that followed her? Why couldn't it be good?
