Galepaw's Acceptance

"Get up, Windpaw!" Hollyshade glares at the apprentice Windpaw, who is lying on the ground. Ridge, another apprentice, shrinks down, head low, eyes guilty. Dropletpaw's ears flatten, knowing what's coming. Breezepaw also stiffens next to Tempest. Tempest's fur has also started to bristle upwards, much like his sister Ember, whose eyes have widened considerably. Galepaw is the only one who shows indifference – outwards, anyway. Inside, he is begging his brother to not crack a joke or make a laugh out of this situation.

The ginger and white apprentice groans. "You've killed me," Windpaw announces dramatically. A collective snicker arises from the audience, and Galepaw's heart drops. Hollyshade scrutinizes the neat line of apprentices and mentors watching with narrowed eyes. She then turns her furious blue eyes back to Windpaw, russet tabby fur fluffed up; she looks twice her size.

"You think that this is funny?" she snarls into Windpaw's face.

"Frankly, yes," Windpaw responds, face a mask of innocence.

"Do you want to die?" the deputy growls. "Cats are less willing to show mercy out there, idiot. You need to learn to defend yourself."

"That's doubtful, Hollyshade." A low growl cuts through Hollyshade's ranting.

Galepaw's fur starts to rise alongside his spine. Dryblade. Galepaw freezes up as the altogether familiar swish of ginger fur passes him.

"I cannot believe – " Dryblade begins, still heading towards Windpaw - "- that – " Windpaw, as if realizing how the situation had turned oh-so-very ugly, scrambled to his paws – "- you and I – " Dryblade arrives in front of Windpaw, who is cowering – "- and Galepaw and Breezepaw – " a glint of pearly claws in the dawn light – slash - "-are related."

Windpaw whimpers in pain, slowly crumpling down. Galepaw refuses to look at Windpaw's face, and instead sees blood-red spots on the sandy floor of the training field, slowly trickling to the grassy sides.

"You are a disgrace." Dryblade's murmur is still quite audible. "If only my mother saw how her pampering caused you to fall down to rock bottom. She's be disgusted as well." Dryblade turns around and kicked up a plume of sand. "Go back to the medicine den, maybe Thrushflight can find any use of you."

Breezepaw hisses and I feel bile rising up behind my throat. Neither of us do anything. We only sit and watch as Windpaw struggles back to his feet again, a nasty nick on his ear bleeding.

Dryblade beckons for Hollyshade with his tail. She follows obediently, along with the other mentors. The small clearing slowly becomes deserted as the other apprentices leave too.

"Windpaw!" Breezepaw dashes forward, eyes horrified. Galepaw can't move. He can't breathe. Why would Dryblade do this? Was he in one of his moods? Was it because Woodleaf had dared attack Dryblade earlier?

Windpaw collapses again as Breezepaw attempts to get her brother back on his paws.

"Galepaw! Help!" Breezepaw's panicked mew sounds far away. He barely hears himself mutter, "Pass" as he gets up, stumbling and shaky, and heads back to camp.

He doesn't know why he's refusing to help. Maybe because Windpaw looked pathetic. Maybe because he could care less for a simple nick on a ear. Most likely because he didn't want to incur his father's wrath. Galepaw, the star apprentice, scolded by his father. It would be what the other cats would talk about for moons.

Galepaw closes his eyes and breathes in the air. With the morning rain deeply imbedded in the air, it seems harder to breathe than usual.

SCENEBREAK

"Galepaw, I want you, Windpaw, and Breezepaw to head over to the maze and see if anyone's trying to hunt on our territory." Dryblade curls his lips back to reveal yellowed teeth – like ones of an old, dangerous creature. "Better kill anyone who's trying to claim more territory for that dysfunctional clan."

Galepaw can't understand why Dryblade insists on calling the clan 'dysfunctional' – it seems to him that his family is more so than the Clan of the Maze. He nods anyway, and heads to the deep undergrowth that leads outside. Windpaw and Breezepaw flank him, much like guards.

Galepaw holds a hatred of being guarded. He also doesn't like any funny business – and frankly, Windpaw and Breezepaw are quieter than usual – that's funny business if he's ever seen one.

"Okay, what's up with you two today?" he demands as they head deeper into the forest. "Are you mad because I didn't stand up for Windpaw?"

Breezepaw shoulders sag. "I didn't stand up for Windpaw either," she replies, her voice nearly inaudible. "We're not mad at you."

That doesn't reassure Galepaw. Today seems vaguely weird. The sun seems to shine too bright for his liking; the leaves rustle like whispering; the trees appear like they're staring at him. Was he becoming paranoid? Galepaw can't be too sure.

Before that train of thought can lead any further, a sharp, pungent scent hits his nose.

"Fox," he growls, crouching down behind a pile of rocks. "Stay low."

Windpaw and Breezepaw blatantly ignore him. In fact, they step into the open. Galepaw peeks over the boulders – the fox is large – it's an adult.

"Breezepaw! Windpaw!" he hisses, fear and bile beginning to rise behind his throat. "Get back here!"

It's too late. The fox has noticed them. It bares its yellow teeth at them, spittle dripping in between them.

His mind grows blank as he launches himself from my refuge at the fox. The fox stumbles to its side as Galepaw latches onto its flank, snarling and flailing. His unsheathed claws land on its muzzle, tearing skin and drawing a sharp yip from the creature. But that feat is nothing compared to the pain that shoots through his back. The fox tears him from its body, sinking its fangs into his flesh. A choked screech makes its way to his throat, expelled in one breath.

"Windpaw! Breezepaw! Please, help!" he howls, trying to drown out the pain that keeps coming in short bursts.

They stare back at him. Their eyes – cold, unnerving. They both shake their heads – He's a lost case to them – and they turn back. They disappear into the greens – like the faith they both lost in one another.

A dry sob escapes from his mouth along with a spurt of blood. The pain is blinding, blinding, blinding – and it starts to dull and the world starts to fade away – I have to live – but the pain – the will to live is slipping with his consciousness – the world turns black –

And nothing.