A pretty rose. That's what they called me. I was told I resemble my mother when she was my age, they said her beauty had no rivalry. Funny, every little girl would want to have the beauty of their mother, I mean to her she is the most perfect being alive, so kind, so pure, without any flaw *chuckles* but I didn't. I wanted my mothers wit and her strength, and her ability to never miss a target. You see, being pretty and dressing nicely to entertain the eye does open a few doors, just like the pretty colorful roses we love to see so much everywhere we go, sometimes its all it ever took of me to finish a job. But then we shouldn't forget the rose is as pretty as its thorns, if you don't tend the thorns or even take them away from them, its so easy to destroy the delicate rose and nothing would be left of it. So my thorns are my mind and my right aim, the one thing that protects me and the one that gets me to seal the deal. So yes, I am like my mother but not in the way they wanted me to~
