"This honor has been passed down from father to son for many centuries!" Boreen heard the words roar out of Grantaw's mouth but struggled to grasp that they were meant in his honor. "A tragic thing happened this day. Our loved ones did not come home, but they died with honor! Young Boreen Torikk has told me of this morning's events and I am still proud to stand here in front of this tribe and say they were our warriors! The best of us go the way of a true warrior!" She began to speak in more hushed tones. "And though we will never see them again in this life, the spirits have sent us home a new chief. One chosen by my husband and your former chief. He fought to protect us for decades and now is granted the rest he deserves, but not before sending us Boreen of the Torikk Clan!" The other members of his clan erupted in shouts of pride and honor. "We know them to be warriors of honor as well," Grantaw continued, "Let us honor the spirits! Let us honor our dead! Let us honor our new chief!'
"Boreen!" The entire village roared with passion as the drummers began to play. The villagers went wild as the party began, dancing to the drums that echoed through their forest. The trees shook as the cats stomped the ground beneath their feet. Hours passed at the tribe partied through the night. All seemed perfect, yet something felt wrong to Boreen. A scream pierced his ears, distant but shrill. He looked around, pausing his celebration as he did, but saw nothing around.
"Boreen what is it?" Grantaw asked having seen his revelry stop.
"Did you hear a scream?"
"Probably a child having too much fun, do not worry. Enjoy now while you can, tomorrow your true tasks begin." He took her advice and continued celebrating, but the feeling of something having gone wrong ate at him. Finally, it became too much and he left the party and headed towards where he thought he heard the scream. As he did another sounded. His ears perked up to the scream. He didn't hesitate and sprinted towards the sound. Rounding the edge of a home he saw what he feared, six adults of a different clan but the same tribe surrounded a younger member of his clan. She laid covered in blood, gasping for air. Boreen let fourth a war cry as he dashed at the malicious men. He slammed his spear into the closest of the six, impaling him in an instant. Pulling it from the cat he spun and lashed out at the next closest, slashing his torso from shoulder to hip. The culprit's innards fell to the dirt. The four remaining stared at him. He stood tall and proud, his gaze making them all falter. Boreen took two steps closer then pounced on the man holding the weapon, wrapping his claws into his throat but not enough to kill him. Looking at the others he spoke slowly.
"Who's idea of fun is this?" The other three stood stunned looking at Boreen. No one spoke. "I asked who started this, or is it all of you?" One of them dashed towards him.
"Down with Torikk!" he shouted as he tried to claw at Boreen. His movements were obvious though. Boreen simply lifted the head of his spear to the oncoming attacker. The cat impaled itself with the spear going straight through his neck. Gargling blood he tried to speak again but nothing came out. Boreen simply shook him off of his spear. He looked at the last free member of the attackers.
"You have one chance, answer the question." The cat glared at Boreen panicking for a moment until he passed out. Boreen could feel his blood boiling again. Slowly he squeezed his claws through the cat he helds throat. The body collapsed while Boreen kept the throat in his hand. He looked at the bleeding chunk of flesh in his hands with disgust and threw it to the ground. As it hit the ground he went to check on the little girl.
The corpse had already gone cold. All of her blood had already drained. Rage continued to boil in him as he realised who it was. The little girl was his younger cousin from his clan, she was killed for being a Torikk. And after what that man had shouted, he knew what he wanted to do but not if it was the right thing to do. He gently picked the body of the fallen girl up and carried it over to the unconscious attacker. Grabbing him by his tail he dragged him along behind as he walked to the head shaman. All that saw them stopped the festivities in an instant and formed a path for them to walk through. Every step only made his rage worse. He finally stood in front of Grantaw. He let go of the attackers tail only so he could gently put his fallen clansmen down. When he returned Grantaws gaze he spoke one thing. "Tomorrow we hold a trial."
