Unbroken

''Note: This story was written in honor of all those injured or killed due to the events at the Boston Marathon on April 15th, 2013. I am a Massachusett's resident of all my life, and the events (quite literally) hit very close to home. America will never forget the wonderful people who were ripped from our midst, and those people who survived, but are forever scarred both emotionally and physically. ''

I laugh along with my little brother, Thornpaw. He had just managed to get himself tangled up in a long vine.

"Come on," I say teasingly, extending my front paw so he can grasp it. "We don't want to be late for the games."

He shrugs, looking bored. "Why do we even have to participate in this stuff?" He flicks a leaf at me.

"Because," I say importantly. "It's the clans tradition; for all four clans to participate in a bunch of games for apprentices." I flick the leaf back at him.

"But why?" He whines. "Just because some old elder created the games moons ago?"

I stifle a giggle. "Squirrelflight is not old."

He smirks. "Yeah, she is."

I roll my eyes, even though he's totally right. "Just come on, I wanna do the hunting contest."

He shrugs. "Okay." And we trudge back through the forest to camp, where the rest of the clan is busy organizing all the extra prey, under the direction of the still-painfully alive Squirrelflight.

"Bring the birds over here," she snaps to two annoyed apprentices. Thornpaw looks at me like; I told you she was an old bat.

I can't take it anymore, I burst out into laughter. Squirrelflight looks over at me in annoyance.

"You're fur looks like you haven't brushed it in days," she snaps, looking over at me in disgust.

I keep laughing.

"That's not true," I say in between fits of laughter. Beside me, Thornpaw is in hysterics.

"She... hasn't.... cleaned it.... ever," he howls, trying to speak while tears of laughter stream down his face. We both are on the floor now, incoherent with laughter.

Squirrelflight gives us a haughty sniff, and turns and stalks away. We laugh even harder, leaving several apprentices bewildered.

Thornpaw explains it in two words: "Old... bat...," and looks significantly at Squirrelflight. Now we are surrounded by apprentices hysterical with laughter, and none of us stop laughing until Riverclan arives.

Oh, how happy we all were.

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