[Deleted]

Fate Admin

The pile of grey fur stirred slowly, inflating and uncurling as Palepaw woke and stretched out, a massive yawn parting his jaw. He remained stretched for a moment, forelegs hanging out of his nest, back arched, one hindleg stretched out. After a moment, he contracted, curling back in on himself before rolling onto his belly. With slow, deliberate movements, he rose. Once three of his paws were firmly situated, he eased the fourth into place beneath him. It had been almost three moons since he'd fallen from the tree, and his broken hindleg had healed well, though it would never be the same. It had twisted out awkwardly, and no matter how hard she tried, Featherpaw couldn't get it to line up straight again. It still pained him to remember being held down by two warriors, while a third pulled his leg and forced it back into a stable position with the medicine cat's guidance. He was pretty sure the entire valley had heard his screams.

Still, he had learned to walk again, though his gait was awkward and limpy. He was determined, however, and always walked with purpose, even if he was only going a few steps. Today, he had a new purpose. He was tired of lying useless in Featherpaw's den. He wanted to be an apprentice again. And there was only one person he could talk to. His mentor, his leader: Ravenstar.

Palepaw limped forward, emerging from the medicine den and into the heart of the camp. He looked around for a bit, and not seeing his quarry, aimed himself in the direction of the leader's den. He offered brief nods of hello to those who called out to him, but carried on, jaw set and eyes aimed ahead.

He stopped just outside the entrance to Ravenstar's den. "Ravenstar? I need to speak with you." His voice still carried the gentle, airy tone he'd had forever, but also held a hint of the strong determination that had kept him going these past moons.

---

P A L E P A W

[Fate Admin]

Ravenstar lay curled in her nest, cloaked in shadows and relative silence. The leader’s den was the smallest den the cavern NightClan called their camp had to offer; a long narrow passage only large enough for two cats to walk abreast, tall enough to leave a tail length above most cat’s heads. Still, it was several fox lengths deep, giving a leader plenty of privacy and warning of any approach, for paw steps echoed well in the small space, leaving a stealthy venture into the leader’s den all but impossible. It funneled noise from the rest of camp into its depths so that even in her solitude she had some idea what was happening outside. Rarely was it anything more than the normal mingling of Clanmates, however, and she had learned to tune it out unless something seemed amiss.

She stared, unseeing at the dark wall of the den, thinking of the leaders that had laid here before her. Blackbird and Stripestar had both mentioned Shadestar, the leader before him. She had been some massive black she-cat, kin of Blackbird, though she couldn’t remember how exactly. His father’s littermate, or his father’s father’s littermate. One or the other. Her claws scraped the moss beneath her as she silently cursed TreeClan for the battle that had crippled her father and stolen Sharp-paw from her. Blackbird would have made a great leader. Sharp-paw would have made his whole Clan proud to call him theirs. It was that battle, truly, that set her paws on the path to calling this den her own. That battle had shaped so much of her future. She wished she could know what would have happened if that battle never came to be.

She couldn’t imagine that she would be leader now. Surely Blackbird would be Blackstar. She would still be Ravenfeather. Darkwing may have been his deputy, but then… Darkwing had passed in his sleep, peacefully, some seasons ago… perhaps her father would have named her as his deputy. Sharp-paw would be…. She often wondered what Stripestar would have named him. Sharpclaw maybe, or Sharpfang. She personally would have requested Sharptongue, but she didn’t think Stripestar would honor the request. He was a warrior to his core, Stripestar would have known that. He would have given him a proper warrior name, something that let everyone know how fierce and brave he was. She closed her eyes; she would give up her leadership and all the nine lives that came with it to have everyone she had lost back.

Her ears twitched as pawsteps echoed down her little cavern and she raised her head to look down its length. The scent and the voice that traveled to her senses were quite familiar and she pushed herself up to a sitting position, curling her tail around her paws, “Come in, Palepaw.”

[Deleted]

lost among the shattered dreams of princes

---

"Come in, Palepaw."

The silver tom limped down the narrow tunnel that led to Ravenstar's nest, uneven pawsteps echoing softly. For what seemed like the hundredth time, he turned his words over in his head, making sure each one conveyed his meaning clearly. He needed every one to be perfect, or it wasn't going to work.

He finally made it to where Ravenstar sat, and he dipped his head in greeting. Shuffling his paws, he lowered himself to sit in front of her, his twisted leg settling awkwardly. Palepaw inhaled, preparing himself for what was coming. "It's been almost three moons since I broke my leg. Featherpaw says I'm healing nicely, and I feel like I'm getting stronger every day." He blinked and breathed deeply, raising his eyes to Ravenstar's.

"I want to continue my warrior training." He held his amber eyes to hers, his voice steady and determined. He took another breath to prepare himself. "I also want my name changed. I no longer wish to be Palepaw; the name is not a reflection of who I am anymore. I am requesting my name be changed to Crookedpaw, to better show who I am now." His heart fluttered nervously a bit, and he began to lose track of what exactly he had wanted to say. Forgetting what his next words were going to be, he remained silent, holding Ravenstar's gaze and waiting for her response.

---

P A L E P A W

[Fate Admin]

Her ears flicked backward as her apprentice limped his way toward her, the sound of his uneven gait distinctive from all the other whole and healthy cats in NightClan. She closed her eyes as he neared, as if to deny the truth of his injury, and managed not to release a weary sigh. She opened her eyes once more, fixing her pale amber gaze on the young tom as he sat, his injured leg awkwardly placed as if the injury was mocking her and her failure to see a second apprentice safely to warriorhood.

She forced herself to focus on Palepaw’s face rather than his injury as he began speaking. Three moons already… three moons he was behind. Though at least he was still alive. She had not been certain, and still wasn’t, whether or not he would be able to complete his training and become a full warrior, whether his injury would hold him back forever if it never healed properly. His expressing his desire to continue his training was promising, though she felt she would have to consult Featherpaw about it before she agreed. Before she could say as much Palepaw continued speaking.

She blinked in surprise at his request. Silence fell between them and they simply held each other’s gazes for a long moment. At last Ravenstar closed her eyes. Crookedpaw. It made her heart wrench. She met his gaze once more, “Is this how you think of yourself now? As nothing more than an injured leg?” She paused, thinking briefly of Grimjaw. Their mother had cursed him with that name and he had remained a somber, humorless cat until the day of his death. “Names have meaning, Palepaw, they hold power over a cat, can influence how others treat you and how you think of yourself. You should not discard one name for another simply because you were wounded. Do you know how many ‘Scarpaws’ we would have if every cat changed their name after receiving a wound?”

She shook her head, “I need a better reason from you, for I do not see it. I see only Palepaw in front of me. I cannot see what has changed. An injured leg is not who you are. An injury does not define you unless you allow it to. There is so much more to you, Palepaw. There is more to your life than one training accident.” She stood, staring at him in challenge, “So tell me. Why is Crookedpaw who you are? And I don’t want to hear anything about your leg.” Her tail lashed once for emphasis.

[Deleted]

lost among the shattered dreams of princes

---

"Is this how you think of yourself now? As nothing more than an injured leg?" He blinked at her words, waiting to hear what else she had to say. "Names have meaning, Palepaw, they hold power over a cat, can influence how others treat you and how you think of yourself. You should not discard one name for another simply because you were wounded. Do you know how many ‘Scarpaws’ we would have if every cat changed their name after receiving a wound?" He wanted to speak, to retaliate. This was different. This wasn't simply an apprentice with a minor wound requesting a name change. This was very serious, very well thought out request.

"I need a better reason from you, for I do not see it. I see only Palepaw in front of me. I cannot see what has changed. An injured leg is not who you are. An injury does not define you unless you allow it to. There is so much more to you, Palepaw. There is more to your life than one training accident."" She stood and glared at him, but he didn't have a chance to speak. "So tell me. Why is Crookedpaw who you are? And I don’t want to hear anything about your leg."

He recoiled slightly. His jaw parted slightly in surprise without him noticing. He knew she wouldn't accept his request outright, but he hadn't expected her to be so forceful. It nearly drained all of his confidence, and he stared at her wide-eyed for a few heartbeats. "I.." For once, he struggled for words. "It's because.." How to put this? He took a deep breath. "It's because I feel like Palepaw died that day. I'm not the same cat I was. It's hard to describe or explain, but I'm... different. I'm just not the same, and I don't feel I should keep my name. Crookedpaw just seems to be the most logical response. Not only is my leg now crooked, but so is the path my life has taken. I no longer share the same path to warriorhood as my fellows; my life has taken a different turn. I think Crookedpaw reflects that better than Palepaw does."

Palepaw took another deep breath. He tried to be as steady as possible through his monologue, but inside he was shaking. Possibly on the outside as well. He could no longer meet Ravenstar's eye, so he looked off to the side of her. It seemed to be a battle of wills now, and if he hadn't swayed her with his speech, then he knew there was no way he would win. He had exhausted his last reasonings, and he had nothing left to give. And with the force Ravenstar had shown, things weren't looking good for his cause.

---

P A L E P A W