Shinepaw didn’t know what Flycatcher would ask of him. However, the anxious apprentice’s tendency to assume the worst had certainly led him to all sorts of wild conclusions: climb a mountain, win against all the warriors in Thunderclan, topple a tree, none of these were out of the realm of possibility in the ball of nerves’ mind.
So, when the deputy decreed that three pieces of prey were his target, he felt both relieved and terrified. Hunting was hardly Shinepaw’s strong suit, and three pieces of prey would be difficult in leafbare. Silently cursing the fact that he hadn’t been born in a more abundant season, the shaft of sunlight nodded in acknowledgment of his mentor’s instructions. “I won’t let you down” he muttered as Flycatcher slinked away to watch.
A few moments later, he was alone in the clearing. Shinepaw didn’t move for a few seconds, as the stakes of his situation pressed down like gravity and an anxious mind was awash with unwanted thoughts. It took all his willpower, but the boy took a deep breath and tried to begin his test. Flame-pointed ears perked up, trying to sense for prey before the faint smell of squirrel hit his nostrils.
There were another few moments of indecision, the warrior-aspirant unsure of his slowly-forming plan, but fear of waiting too long eventually outweighed fear of failure, and the ball of fur began to move. He stalked forwards through the forest, suppressing every stressful instinct to rush forwards and get it over with, taking his time until the squirrel came into view. It was sitting next to a tree, just as he’d hoped. If Flycatcher wanted a demonstration of climbing, why not kill two birds with one stone?
With tense muscles launching him forwards like a springboard, Shinepaw shot from the bush barely a fox-length from his quarry. The squirrel perked up, taking in the apprentice for a moment before scampering up the bark. The boy was quick after it, though, scrabbling up the tree and practically nipping at its heels.
“C’mere, you!” Shinepaw shouted, unknowingly alerting all the prey in the area to his presence. That didn’t matter to the warrior-aspirant right now, though, as with a final burst of speed the boy was able to grab the squirrel between his jaws. The apprentice bit down hard, relishing the feeling of his quarry going limp. However, success soon turned to embarrassment. Shinepaw was so focused on finishing the target that he’d neglected his balance, and felt himself begin to slide down the tree.
With panicked scrabbling, the shaft of sunlight was able to slow his descent until the final few tail-lengths, at which point the feline fell off completely, landing hard on his back with the squirrel still clamped between his jaws. Standing up slowly, Shinepaw ignored the soreness (that he would certainly feel in the morning) and padded back towards the clearing, depositing his somewhat-sloppy catch in the center, before preparing for the next piece of prey. “That’s one down!” he announced excitedly.
Predictably, it became much harder to spot prey after that, thanks to the boy’s loud mouth. Shinepaw was ignorant of the fact for a few minutes, thinking he was just having a bout of bad luck, before the excitement of the last catch faded and realization set in. Flycatcher would’ve seen Shinepaw’s eyes go wide as reality finally registered, and a sudden flurry of movement enveloped his apprentice.
Shinepaw was practically scrambling all over the forest, desperate to find another piece of prey. “No, no, no” The tomcat muttered, panic rising as hasty movements led to snapped twigs and crunched leaves. A flame-colored pelt felt as if it was burning, and the boy was sure Flycatcher’s judgmental gaze was boring into him. How could he have been so stupid? The shaft of sunlight had started with strong momentum, but now progress had slowed to a crawl, and that fact only made things worse.
“I’m going too slow” He muttered again, replaying every mistake in his head. The moggy wanted to impress Flycatcher. He needed to impress Flycatcher. That wouldn’t get done if the tomcat was here till sundown. Sky-blue eyes frantically scanned the shrubbery for any hint of prey, and the boy couldn’t help but gasp as he passed through a bush and came face-to-face with a mouse.
It was luck. Pure luck. The cat had been so panic-stricken that scents had lost their meaning, and the mouse was apparently so deaf that it hadn’t heard his approach. Shinepaw wasted no time, slamming a claw down to subdue the creature. Breathing a small sigh of relief, the anxious cat carried the quarry back to the clearing, dropping it next to his squirrel with a guilty conscience. Did this count? Shinepaw didn’t believe he’d captured it with his own skill. Was he going to become a warrior because of a lucky break? What would people think? What would they say? The shaft of sunlight sat for a moment, seeming to catch his breath but really trying to control the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. What did Flycatcher think? Was he disappointed? Had he already failed?
Shinepaw wanted to call out to his mentor and friend, but the boy bit his tongue. Instead, he stood shakily and tried to take a breath. It wasn’t over yet, there was still one more piece of prey he needed.
The mouse had both broken the boy and raised his spirits. On one hand, overblown anxious thoughts were convincing the nearly-crying cat that all his catches were luck, and he possessed no real skill. On the other, the mouse was proof that prey was still in the forest, despite his outburst. Still, he was undoubtedly spiraling.
Shinepaw wanted to be a warrior more than anything. It would give him friends and respect. It would give him self-esteem. It would complete him. Nothing else mattered. “One more, one more, one more” Shinepaw whispered with a shaky voice, otherwise silent as the grave as he forced himself to move at a snail’s pace, stalking through the forest and tasting the air.
Once again, though, self-imposed pressure asserted itself. He was moving silently, but too slowly. Flycatcher was probably growing impatient with his incompetent apprentice. A self-hating scowl appeared on the boy’s lips as he imagined his mentor suddenly announcing he was wasting time, and they were going back to camp. Shinepaw was certain he was a hair’s breadth from failing, and was about to fall back into the same trap and speed up to reckless levels when he finally sensed something. Suddenly, desperation became the word of the day.
It was a bird. They were hard to catch, right? Maybe this could all be salvaged. If Shinepaw caught it, maybe it would redeem his earlier mistakes. Maybe Flycatcher wouldn’t hate him. Maybe no one would hate him. Maybe he would become a warrior after all.
Shinepaw barely breathed as he made an approach, silently creeping forwards through the undergrowth, praying that the prey would come into view soon, praying that this would finally be over. Sky-blue eyes widened as he peeked out of a small shrub, finally sighting the animal that would determine his future. A red bird, sitting under a small bush and pecking at the dirt. It was perfectly positioned. It was unaware. It was…tiny.
Shinepaw frowned, self-doubt setting in and stalling his movements. Was it too small? Would it be acceptable? Birds were hard to catch, but was a disappointing bird worth anything? The boy began to breathe faster, imagining what Flycatcher would think if this pitiful thing was brought back and placed on the pile. He’d hate it, certainly. Come to think if it, his last two catches had been on the small side. What if-
It saw him.
The bird had turned and finally sensed the impending danger, and sky-blue eyes widened in horror as Shinepaw saw it begin to go for cover. He’d wasted time worrying, and lost the element of surprise. Thoughts flashed like lightning through his mind, so fast that they only contained single words:
Useless.
Failure.
Outcast.
“NO!” Shinepaw shrieked, facade of composure dissolving as he raced forwards in a desperate attempt to make up for his mistake. The bird couldn’t take flight just yet, and it was scrambling through shrubs to try and find a clear space to take off, with the apprentice in desperate pursuit. “Please! Please! Please!” He was barging through the same bushes, tears streaming down sun-drenched features as he tried to catch up, running like death was on his heels. All the wailing would’ve scared anything else away, and that realization only made him run faster. This would be his last chance.
Three mouse-lengths. Two. One. They were out of the bushes now, and the bird spread its wings. Shinepaw jumped in a last-ditch gamble, and the boy crashed to earth a few seconds later, a tiny bird pinned beneath his pelt. The panicked apprentice lifted himself up, desperately stabbing into the creature again and again until it was completely gored, utterly convinced it would fly away the second the shaft of sunlight turned his head.
Eventually, Shinepaw made it back to the clearing, depositing a ruined catch that much-resembled his psyche. The boy’s eyes were red from hastily-wiped-away tears, and he was trembling like a leaf in the wind. “I’m…I’m done…” He spoke into the forest, fear-scent thick. He’d done what was asked, but was it good enough?
