Starlingpaw felt the world fall out from beneath her paws.

It's likely that she may never become a warrior. The words repeated in her head, again and again, pounding their message into her skull relentlessly. Starlingpaw had known all along that something was wrong with her, but she had always held on to a tiny hope that she could solve it, that despite all odds she would rise up and become a warrior as every Clan cat was destined to. She thought of all her hard work, the failed training sessions, the hunting trips where she returned with empty paws. She had endured it all because of her belief that it was worth something, worth anything, but now a variable beyond her control had ruined that hope, and crushed her dreams.

"N-never…" Starlingpaw squeaked, her voice high and shrill with shock and dismay. "There's no chance?"

Honeypool's eyes were sympathetic. "It's nearly impossible. Not to be blunt, but you've experienced your inability. Do you think you might be able to overcome it?"

"Of course!" Darkfeather hissed suddenly. "I won't give up! My apprentice will become a warrior even if it takes twice as much work!" Her words, though strong and fierce, felt empty.

Honeypool shook her head, and meowed quietly, "I'm sorry. It can't be done."

"What do you mean? So her legs are a bit too stiff and she trembles sometimes. That doesn't mean she'll never be able to hunt or fight!"

The medicine cat stood up and released a breath. "Yes, you're right. She could become a warrior." Starlingpaw's chest swelled momentarily at her words but soon deflated. "However, with the combination of her missing hunting instincts- which are likely a result of the disease- it would be a terribly steep task for her to even function as a warrior from day to day. But, what am I saying- Starlingpaw, how do you feel about this?"

"I…" Starlingpaw stammered, put on the spot. "I want to be a warrior. Of course I do." she meowed, but she was unsure of her own words. Did she really want to be a warrior, or was it just that Clan life had ingrained the notion into her?

Honeypool's whiskers twitched, and she sat still for a moment before getting to her paws and nosing through a pile of herbs. She grabbed a couple of stalks that Starlingpaw recognized as thyme and turned around to face her. "Now Starlingpaw, I'm not sure if this will help you at all, but this is the herb I'd usually use for trembling cats, often ones in shock. I'd like you to take some, and then go training in the morning. Tell me afterward if you feel any difference." She placed the herbs at the sable apprentice's feet and looked directly into her eyes. "If you are set on becoming a warrior, it is my duty to assist you in any way I can. I may have to ask StarClan itself for help, but I will not rest until you are living a fulfilling life. Understand?"

Starlingpaw nodded shakily, suddenly aware of the tremors of her head, as if she couldn't quite hold it up. "I understand, Honeypool. Thank you."

As Starlingpaw chewed on the stalk of thyme, Honeypool proposed a plan to her and her mentor. "I think Starlingpaw should return here often, and I can help her learn to overcome the disease. Your role is important, too, Darkfeather. She will likely have to relearn everything she has been taught and now try to adapt it to her needs." The medicine cat looked at her paws. "I have my doubts that it will work, but we need to try if Starlingpaw is truly set on becoming a warrior."

Starlingpaw thought of the work that lay ahead of her, restarting her apprenticeship and struggling to finally become proficient, and wondered if she would think the work was worth it. When she finally became a warrior, would she wish that she had taken an easier route? Would she even enjoy hunting and fighting for the clan when she had no drive to do so? A heavy doubt pierced through her mind- Did Starlingpaw really want to be a warrior?

She glanced at Darkfeather, seeing the determination in her eyes, but knew that she too must be worried about all the effort that would now have to go into Starlingpaw's training. Darkfeather would barely have enough time to perform her own duties, and the young apprentice didn't want to burden her with her problems. A plan quickly formulated in her mind as she was dismissed from the medicine den and padded across the woodsy clearing.

Ahead of her, Larkpaw sat in conversation with Ravenpaw, the bulkiest of the apprentices and the brother of Birchpaw. As Starlingpaw approached, Larkpaw turned away from the other apprentice and bounded toward his sister.

"Hey!" he called out, his dark-colored tail flicking back and forth. "I saw you head into the medicine cat's den. What's the matter? Is your leg giving you problems?"

"No," she replied, a half-truth. Her injury was not bothering her, but her legs definitely were. She had noticed on the walk over how wide of a stance she had, and how little she bent her legs. Graceful was not the word to describe her. "Larkpaw, let's go hunting. Just you and me."

Larkpaw gave her a doubtful and questioning look. "The last time we were out together, I injured you. That might not be a great idea."

"We won't be doing battle, mouse-brain," Starlingpaw huffed. "Just hunting. Please?"

Larkpaw dipped his head. "Okay, why not? I'll go tell-"

"No!" Starlingpaw hissed sharply. "Don't tell anyone! Let's… let's keep it a secret. All right?"

Gazing at her with curious eyes, Larkpaw nodded and followed Starlingpaw as they crept out of camp, taking a winding path to dispel suspicion. Soon enough the siblings were out in the woods, and Starlingpaw felt the fresh and earthy air clear her mind. She was determined to catch something today, to prove to Honeypool that she could be a warrior and didn't need to be a burden on the clan.

Now that she was fully focused on hunting, she found it easier to pick up scents and quickly tracked a finch, hopping around on its tiny feet in search of seeds or whatever the creature ate. Starlingpaw dropped into an awkward, wide crouch, then tried her hardest to move her legs closer together. Larkpaw didn't notice her silent struggle and simply watched from afar as she approached the bird, moving slowly both to keep quiet and because it was hard to keep her stance.

As she inched closer and closer to the bird, staying downwind so it wouldn't smell her, Starlingpaw felt her head tremble more rapidly as she attempted to stay still. She tried to calm it by pushing her head forwards before she pushed against the ground with her back legs, using more force than she thought she needed, and scrambled across the forest floor. The leaves beneath her back legs slowed her down a moment too much, and as she leaped to catch the finch when it began to flap away, her paws clutched empty air and she landed on the ground with only disappointment.

"That was pretty good, Starlingpaw!" Larkpaw mewed from behind her. Under normal circumstances, she might have hissed at him, but Starlingpaw agreed- now that she knew what was the problem, it was slightly easier to compensate for her clumsiness.

"Thanks," Starlingpaw replied, her eyes sparkling. "I bet I'll catch one next time!"

But her hope did not last long. Throughout the rest of their secret hunting trip, Larkpaw caught mouthfuls of prey, while she had barely managed to catch a couple of mice. Starlingpaw suddenly wished that her hopes hadn't been so high, that she could have been happy with her catch, but the she-cat couldn't help comparing herself to her brother. They were the same amount of time into training and he had the hunting skills of a warrior, where hers were more of a young kit. Why had it been Starlingpaw that was born with the disease? Why couldn't it have been Larkpaw, so Starlingpaw could hunt like any other cat? She caught herself in her thoughts and felt a rush of shame. Starlingpaw truly wished that hunting wasn't so hard for her, but Larkpaw didn't deserve to be put through her struggles. He was proud and strong, and to rob him of that would be to rob the Clan.

As they looped back through the forest, their catches heavy in their jaws (Starlingpaw had to help Larkpaw carry his prey, as there was too much of it), the apprentices passed the back of the Twolegplace. Wooden nests were sprinkled in the back of the woods, a rocky Thunderpath curling behind them. Rotting fences closed in Twoleg gardens to keep dogs and kittypets contained inside them.

Starlingpaw had a thought. I might have to be a kittypet someday.

Larkpaw turned to her in surprise, and she realized that she must have spoken aloud. "What?!" he cried through his mouthful of fresh-kill, then placed them down to growl at her, "You can't be serious! Kittypets are the laziest cats around. It would be an absolute disgrace!"

"I didn't mean it, really," Starlingpaw lied, trying to calm her brother. "But… what would happen to me? If I never learn to hunt or fight and I can't serve the Clan?"

"That won't happen," Larkpaw meowed fiercely. "Why would it? You caught two whole mice today! I'm pretty sure that's a record for you!"

Starlingpaw flinched at his praise, thankful for it but noticing how pathetic she was. What five-moons apprentice couldn't even catch more than a few mice? Larkpaw was clearly having no trouble in that regard. Maybe she didn't deserve to be a warrior if hunting didn't come naturally to her as it did everyone else. Perhaps she shouldn't even stay in the Clan.