Description
Sick raised in his throat as he watched his cats gather beneath him, the way they eyed his apprentice, his. Oh how she deserved so much more than what she had, what she'd ever get. With fur on end he spoke "Starclan, you know every cat by name. You consciously maim and murder, we are helpless to your wrath and yet you keep on attacking. I ask you now to take away the name from my apprentice, Smallpaw, for it no longer stands for who she is. For you burned away the youth from her face and cursed her to live under the eyes of those who do not understand how it feels. By my authority as Clan leader, I give her the name Burntpaw, as to always remember the power that is Starclan." he meowed, his voice seemed to break under the weight of his words, they hung heavy with hurt and made his legs weak.
Art © Lush-Laws
Weaselwhisker/star © Lush-Laws