Perhaps a few sunrises ago, anyone who saw the black-furred she-cat might think she was acting strangely. Huddled not quite into the corner with both paws over her ears, teeth bared in a hiss. She could almost feel the sleek pelt settled calmly at her side - since when did she become so real? Had she simply grown in power when her own abilities were properly revealed? - but she kept her eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out the silver-pawed shadow in front of her. She never shut up, not quite so surprisingly, and she was only fortunate that she was so freshly dead. The former proxy didn't know how to interact with her daughter, unlike the ice-eyed cat beside her who didn't even have to move an inch to whisper in her ear - the voice sounded like it was coming from inside her head, which she supposed it likely was - "You brought this upon yourself." She gave a low hiss at the air, opening one eye to glare at nothing and growl back, "You're the one who told me to do it." Normally she would've kept her response in her own head, to avoid any strange looks, but it didn't matter any more. Everyone knew now. She didn't need to hide the voices from anyone anymore.

    She hated it.

    She thought she would be free with her mother's death. It was horrible, but she thought it necessary to live her own life, even if it had already been tainted by her long-dead great-grandmother. She thought she had finally escaped her shadow when she watched her mother's struggles come to an end, but only moments later an all too familiar voice had echoed in her ear. She would never be free, no matter what she did, and even worse her mother's lingering spirit made everything all the harder to hide. She didn't want to have the Sight, didn't want to train under the former Nemesis in poisons and deeper methods of torture and manipulation than she ever learned under her mother's former district. But she had no choice. The tiny voice that was her own had been right. She only stepped from one shadow into an even deeper darkness, one that she'd truly never be able to escape. Not without leaving her home; without earning herself the wrath of the League.

    Of course, her mother didn't care. She was off on the same old tirade, about how her daughter abandoned her birthright. About how she should've taken credit for her murder, and how she should've stepped up as proxy in her stead. Eventually she grew sick of it, growling out, "Shut up. I never wanted to be proxy, and I never wanted this." Then, jumping to her paws, she stormed off through her mother's ghost. Thankfully Corvus, for once in her life, got the hint and left her alone, trotting off to likely find someone else to torment. Maybe Solaris, as he could probably see her as well. Now she only had to deal with Raven, and she'd already spent a lifetime getting used to her interference.