Born In With A Reason, Blown Out Like A Ghost (Owl+Pyth)

[pythontail]

   

 It had been several days since Pythontail had approached her apprentice. Several days since she had opened herself up to him, showing him where she trained, and shamelessly displaying the mark her claws had made on the forest's ancient giants when no one was looking. And yet, her abandonment had been intentional rather than negligent. She had needed the time to think and to plan. For the snake of ShadowClan, apprenticeship was not something that one approached haphazardly It was a sacred task one undertook with purpose and intention, a difficult journey which imparted practical, practiced wisdom and applicable life-saving skill from start to finish. Apprenticeship should never be taken lightly; it was the act of taking another life into one's paws and molding it the same way a potter molded clay upon a wheel. You applied solid, constant pressure until your subject was a work of art. No. Perhaps a potter's wheel was the incorrect analogy for this process. Perhaps it was more reminiscent of a blacksmith sitting at a forge, the heat singing his whiskers as he pounded and pounded away mercilessly with his hammer, turning a useless lump of dull ore into a deadly weapon with an edge so sharp it could cut flesh without effort.


    So when Pythontail approached Owlpaw on that windy morning, one could tell by her bearing that she meant business. He appeared to be in the middle of some sort of apprentice duty, but that minor task would be subservient to her own will. "Owlpaw." she called, her voice commanding and imperious. "It is time." A bit theatrical, perhaps, but nonetheless weighty for its impressiveness. She had accepted him--a challenge. She had agreed to refine this cowardly piece of dross into gold. Now the real question came: would he accept her?