Gemotions

The artist in him felt betrayed. Finn, hunched over his canvas, stared at the painting before him, a copy of his beloved mentor, Elara Bellweather’s masterpiece. The similarities were undeniable, the strokes identical, the composition… stolen. He threw his paintbrush across the room, it clattering against the wall. The action felt utterly inadequate. A frustration, like a caged animal, clawed at him. He couldn’t bring himself to paint. He wanted to rage, to break something. Instead, he just stood there, the canvas a mocking reminder of the violation.