Hey Fanfiction! This is my first story, so go easy on me! Please note that I am not attempting to write in Tamora Pierce's style! I just thought this up a little while ago and thought I'd give it a try. Sorry for typos!

Please, review!!

Note: I do not own anything

Some might say I am lucky. Others know better. Like me; I know that being Beka Cooper's daughter is no blessing at all.

Now maybe you don't know who Beka Cooper was-a very different person than she is now, to say the least. Maybe you say you haven't heard of how great she was, what she did for my Lord Provost. That's what you say. I would think you were lying and some of Beka's old friends would insist upon it, if we didn't know how she'd changed.

I was not yet born, so I did not see it, but many of Beka's friends witnessed how she slowly became someone new, someone unrecognizable. I'll have to take their words for it.

An aging cove says that she was once loved by many-with the exception of the rats she was always baggin'. Another old cove claims she had the kindest of hearts. One mot swears she was shy, so very shy.

I don't believe them.

People say she was the best of dogs, starting out as the best of puppies. Even people who didn't know her as a person knew her reputation as a dog. Honest folk loved her and the not so honest folk stayed clear of her. She had, and kept up, a reputation, which would have come into existence the day she was assigned to two senior dogs, who were, they say, the best of the best. In turn, they say she was the best of the best too.

I don't believe it.

People say she loved, and was loved, by this hound of hers. They say she this hound and spoke to her in a different language. They say Beka respected her and that she respected Beka. People say they were kind to each other and protected each other.

I don't believe them.

People say she was in love with the Rogue, the King of Rats himself. People even say he loved her back.

I don't believe it. I don't believe them; I don't believe people. Who are they to me? They don't owe me anything that will make them tell the truth. Besides, I don't believe any mot can change her stripes so much and so fast.

Mayhap they speak of a different Beka Cooper. That would make much more sense; the Beka Cooper I know doesn't act the way people tell me this other mot did. The Beka Cooper I know is hiding-from herself and everyone around her, from her past, and her future.

I should know. My name is Malika Cooper and everyday I wonder to myself what kind of cruel joke the gods were playing when they made me Beka Cooper's daughter.