I've been reincarnated over and over again, so many times. I'm cunning and poisonous, like a snake. That's what I've been told at least. Every time, right before I die. At first it hurt, but I grew numb to it. Why would I care what they say, with their vicious personalities , their cold and uncaring countenences, and their smug women, who cling to them with victorious smiles? If they are uncaring to me, why should I care for them, or what they say?