The one thing that nobody tells you about the academy is how fluffing hard it is, and for goodness' sakes, I thought I was prepared. I'd heard all about how brutal the Major was, the old polar bear, but she retired going on a decade ago, and Wolfard took her spot. He's even more brutal than I've heard she was, but I don't dare complain, not even when my squad and I have woken up for an extra midnight run, just because they have me in their group. I see the looks that everyone gives me, looks of suspicion, and my own nervous habits, like pushing my glasses up my snout and trying to hold on to way too many things at once, habits that remind me of my mother, don't help anything.

Of course, though, that's nothing compared to the scat that they all give me for being a Bellwether, and of course, I'm no bellwether. I'm a mess, that's what I am, but I refuse to give up. Being eighteen, I can't go back to the orphanage anymore, at least not to live, and well, I need the money to get myself up on my own two hooves, so I put up with it, I put up with the stares and the occasional spit glob sent in my direction, and push forwards, push forwards and tune out the hateful stares and all of it. I can't focus on all of the negative and still have any hope of letting the positives shine through, that's something that I've just learned through experience.

Of course, Major Friedkin apparently taught Wolfard her knack for coming up with the most annoying nick-names. I've heard from some of my fellow recruits that Chief Wilde, her nickname was Fluff Butt. Me, I'm Cotton Head, Jason, the fox who's joined the academy with me, he's Hot Seat. Don't ask, I don't know, probably something to do with the fact that he came flying into training our first day with his tail flying straight out behind him like someone set his pants on fire. Either that, or it's because he slept through his alarms again…

I'm usually going to bet on the second one…

Anyways, we're on the line, ready for the last week of training, and let me just say that it's been pretty darn brutal. I feel like I'm understating what I've gone through quite a bit, but I really don't have a better way to say it, four months of hell week, repeated over and over, yeah, that sounds about right.

Of course, being just shy of four feet tall really makes things annoying, but that's life, and at least, if there's one thing that I'm thankful to my father for, it's that I got his height, so there's that. What I'm not thankful for is that most of my fellow recruits keep looking at me like I'm going to stab them in the back, and I've really, honestly, well and truly lost track of how many times all of the other recruits have checked their drinks with a sniff when I was sitting next to them, or they've been blunter and just plain asked me outright if I dropped something into their drink.

Of course not, what am I, evil? No, of freaking course not, but I can't seem to quite convince anyone but the fox in my class of that. I guess he gets it, we're both mammals that nobody's going to quite trust because of who we are. For him, it's species, for me, it's my parents, and we can't choose the cards we're dealt in either of those cases.

"You know, Bellwether," Wolfard says, walking the line of all us recruits, stopping right in front of me, "I'm honestly surprised you haven't tried to drug me yet. I've seen you struggling, you're last in every race, last, last, last, and my patience for you is on its last legs. Get the picture?"

"I would never-," I begin, but Wolfard cuts me off-

"Drill sergeant," he says, putting a paw on his chest. "Daughter of two convicted felons," he says, putting a pointed finger on my chest. "You've got a lot of proving yourself to me to do, Bellwether, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir!" I say, snapping a salute, and he nods.

"I'm glad to hear that, Bellwether, now get your act together, Wilde, same for you, am I understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. I worked with your father- Wilde- when we were both officers under Bogo. He was a troublemaker through and through. Don't be like him, am I understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"I'm glad, now ten laps, everyone, because Bellwether and Wilde can't shut their mouths, let's go!"

"Great, thanks a damn, Smellwether, trying to get us all killed? Haven't you paid attention at all, we've been doing nothing but running!"

I try to get away, but I trip and find myself sprawled on the ground while all of the other cadets keep running, and I push myself up to my hooves, determined not to quit, not now, not ever.

I get up to run, and as I start along the path, I hear Wolfard call after me.

"Just for that, another five laps, Bellwether, let's go!"

This isn't fair, but I can't complain, that'll just get me into even more trouble that I desperately don't want to be in…

Nearly half an hour later, I finish all of my laps, and of course, it's nearly time for us to head to the weight room for strength training, and after that, it's off to the pool.

By the time the day is done, I'm drained, and of course, that means that it's time for me to take a shower.

Me being late to the showers also means that the recruits that were the most pissed at me have had the time to set up a trap for me in the showers, greasing the floors with soap and shampoo that send me sprawing, and my head hits the floor hard and the world goes dark.