Humans seem to love us Ninetales. They love the vulpine shape of our body. They love our white, stainless fur, the way it shines and glistens under the light. They also love our innate elegance and the way we display it, both in a contest and in the middle of a pokémon battle. There is only one thing humans don't like of a Ninetales: its nine pristine tails.

Well, maybe I'm exaggerating it. Of course they like our tails. I've heard a lot of compliments towards them, mostly by young female humans who would then pat me in the head and stroke the fur on my back. Some of them would be a bit more adventurous, scratching my neck and tickling my belly. But none of them ever dared to get their hands near one of my tails.

That's due to the legend; that old tale that assures that he who grabs a Ninetales's tail will be struck by a thousand year long curse. Every human knows it, even babies out of their cribs. Some humans think that it's not true, maybe because it's a very old legend. But as a Ninetales, I must say that the legend is actually true. Should somebody be foolish enough to grab one of our tails, horrible luck and non-stop hardships will befall them and their descendants until a millenium has passed, or until their family has vanished from Earth. But the bit about us acting as mere spectators, looking at them from the distance while sadistically enjoying the punishment they brought upon themselves, is completely untrue. I know some of us do, but the majority of our kin are not happy-go-lucky curse bringers. A millenium-long curse is a horrible weight on a family's shoulders; one we never like to put.

What very few humans know, however, is that there is something more to the legend. And that is that, in reality, only those who knowingly and disregarding the consequences decide to grab a Ninetales' tail are afflicted by our curse. Those who don't know about it, touch one of our tails by accident or that we trust, will be spared. And my own trainer is a perfect example of this. Every time she grooms me, she also grooms my tails. And to do that, she must hold them in her hands. But nothing has ever, nor will ever, happen to her; since I trust her and I know she only does it for me to be clean and look my best.

But we Ninetales are not only curse bringers. That is not the whole truth about our species. For there is something about our kin that no outsider knows.

That we Ninetales, the feared and revered curse bringers, sport a curse of our own in the form of a thousand-year-long life.

I know humans would kill for such a long lifespan. I've heard some of them talking how they'd like to live forever and be eternally young. Some even said they envied us Ninetales for living such a long time.

But I strongly doubt they'd do if they knew the hard truth about us.

For we Ninetales loathe our lifespan. We loathe it for what it implies.

Most pokémon live for a few years. We do not. We live for many centuries. And that means we have to part with everyone dear to us. Our trainers, our mates, even our children and grandchildren. We are condemned to experience the deaths of everyone we loved, knowing that nothing can be done to avoid them, and that we will be forced to endure the same feelings time and again with no chance of ever escaping the cycle until our lifespan is finally over.

And that is utterly devastating. To watch every pokémon or human I loved die, and specially to know that it will go on happening, that I will go on living while everyone I knew dies, one by one.

It breaks my heart everytime it happens. It truly does. It is a horrible feeling, one that crushes my heart and makes me hate myself and my life. But I am forced to go on. To go on because of those near to me. I know they wouldn't have liked me giving up on centuries of life to escape the regret and heartbreak.

To go on while the ones around us slowly disappear. Such is the curse of the Ninetales' kin.

But soon, I will break free from it. At eight hundred and forty six years old, there isn't much time left for me.

And that gives me hope. And it even makes every new death a teeny bit more bearable.

Because deep down, I know that every second the day draws nearer.

The day I will finally be free from my own thousand-year-long curse.