"Everpaw!" A warm whisper cuts me out of my stupor. I turn and see Galepaw approaching me, a rabbit in his jaws. I stifle a purr and quickly pad over to the handsome tom from my perch in a cedar. We aren't supposed to see each other, he's older than me. By two moons, only two moons, I remind myself. So it isn't too illegal.
"Where'd you catch this?" I ask, sniffing it. It smells fresh, unlike the usual prey we eat. "At the pond. It was drinking," Galepaw admits. I laugh a light, breezy laugh. "Even if it had seen you, you would have caught it," I mew earnestly. He snorts, but doesn't protest. "Where's Hazelleaf?" I ask him, peering around the dense foliage. Hazelleaf is Galepaw's mother. She allows him to go on the hunts, but usually stays close to the border, pacing, waiting for his safe return that might never happen.
"Out hunting. Violetpaw saw a deer and they're trying to bring it down." My eyes widen. "Don't worry, it's an authorized hunt." He reassures me. Right. Because that ever stopped anyone from going into the woods to hunt. Namely me and Galepaw. "Good." I say instead. Our Watchers know we hunt illicitly, but they don't protest. They like fresh prey as much as we do. Except they don't risk their lives to get it, unlike us.
"Wanna share?" He offers. I nod, then remember something. "I'll be right back." His brow furrows, but I turn and go back to the camp. Primrosekit, my younger sister from another litter, has prepared a gift for me and Galepaw. It is by my nest, wrapped carefully in a delicate bundle of leaves. I pick it up and return quietly to Galepaw's side in the forest, not drawing attention to myself.
"What is it?" He nudges me, and I laugh, setting it at his paws. The bundle opens like a spring flower in bloom. There are daisies, at least fifty of them, in a small heap inside. Someone gasps, and I have the vague feeling it might be me. Galepaw looks stunned. "How did she manage to collect so many?" He whispers. A faint smile uncurls over my face. "I showed her a patch." "But she needs it for her medicine!" Galepaw protests.
"Evidently not," I observe, sniffing them. They are still fresh, must have been picked just this morning. We divide them as equally as we can, sprinkling them over our newly-caught rabbit. We dig in hungrily, I haven't eaten since last night, and Galepaw hasn't eaten since that morning. It's soon gone. I can tell he's anxious from all the lost hunting time. I lick my jaws clean. "We can make up for it. We hunted plenty this morning." He's unconvinced, so I add, "And they'll soon have that deer."
He nods slowly, skepticism still glimmering in his eyes. "Who went out?" I ask. "Violetpaw, Hazelleaf, Smudgewrinkle, and Roarpaw." "Well, Hazelleaf and Roarpaw know how to hunt," I say, but even to me my tone sounds false. He sighs, staring with dark eyes at the forest. I shiver, knowing he is about to start raving about them, but surprisingly, he doesn't.
Instead, he turns to me "Are you nervous?" He asks. His silky voice creates butterflies in my stomach. "Not as much as you are," I respond softly. "How many times have you entered?" He asks. "Seventeen this year," I reply. "You?" His lip snags on his teeth and I know what he is refraining from telling me is horrifying. "Twenty-six," He says. I know he's lying, but that's enough entries in itself. "Galepaw..." My voice is choked. "Shh, It's okay." He puts his tail around my shoulder, embracing me.
I'm selfish. I know I am. I'm out here, enjoying the day, when everywhere else people are locked at home, distancing themselves from others, nerves eating them alive. And I'm selfish because I'm with Galepaw, and because I ate this morning... I close my eyes. I have to get through the day. The only day I worry about will soon be over, and I won't have to think of it for moons to come.
In a few hours, this will all be over. I sigh, resting my head on Galepaw's shoulder. It's an action of affection, of thankfulness. I remember the other she-cats. They stare at Galepaw, glare at me. I'm jealous, but not for the reason people would think. He's my hunting partner. Mine. I'm surprised when my heart thumps in my chest, and I realized why. Somewhere, deep down, I have grown to trust Galepaw. Trust him to the point of where I think of him as my own.
A revelation such as this one, on a day like this? I want to laugh bitterly. But I don't. Instead I stay with Galepaw, just the two of us, in the forest. Alike. So alike. And yet... I fight the urge to open my eyes and walk away. And yet we're so different. So very, very different.
I stand in the center of the camp with Primrosepaw and my mother. I glance down at my young sister. She's so brave. I'm reassured by the fact that she's only 12 moons, therefore only entered once. Although, that's still one entry too many. Poor Prim. My heart feels like it's cracking. If she gets chosen, she will die quickly. She's a healer, not one of us.
I glance around, searching for a familiar pair of stormy gray eyes. There he is. He gives me a small nod. I'll be fine. I grimace. He smiles slightly at my expression, then turns back to the boulder. My stomach stirs with resentment, and I glare up at the she-cat we all loathe here. It's not her, but the news she brings that makes us hate her.
Her name is Trinkle. Every time we see her, her pelt is dyed oddly. Last year it was magenta. The year before that, muddy brown. This time, hers is pitch-black, some sort of dust caked on heavily. When she moves, it shimmers. Where she comes from, the prey is rich. They don't starve in winter. They don't have rats. I shudder, my eyes wide.
I can feel the fear radiating from Prim. I press myself to her, our pelts mashing together against the cold. Her eyes are bright and scared, like a cornered animal. I wince. Prim is so much more than that. She isn't just some pawn for the Keepers to mess around with. She's my sister. I won't let them take you, I vow. Prim isn't radiating horror as strongly, but I keep myself pressed against her. It's cold, the breaths we take crystallize in front of us in billowing white clouds which we're forced to inhale, then exhale again.
My heart nearly stops beating. He only pauses for a second, but I can see where his gaze is directed. Not me. I think. Please, please, please, not me. He speaks, but I can't hear him. Apparently no one can, because Trinkle stares at him, puzzled. "Oh, er..." His voice is heavy, and I know whoever it is a twelve year-old. His tone varies per age. Then I realize Primrosepaw is shaking. I lick her forehead comfortingly.
"Primrosepaw." He says. A pine needle could drop and be heard in the silence that follows. My sister's heart seems to have stopped beating, but then she takes a breath and shakily starts walking up. The crowd murmurs unhappily. It isn't fair. A twelve-year old, and a healer? The Keepers won't get much fun out of this.
And if they aren't entertained, they punish us. The whole tribe. My breath hitches in my throat. "No! Prim!" I yowl, bounding over to her. With a sweep of my sturdy tail, I push her behind me. "I will represent the tribe." My voice is deadly calm. Trinkle looks taken aback. "Oh! Well, there's no protocol for this sort of-" The Head Watcher interrupts. "What does it matter?" He asks. "Let her." "Everpaw! Everpaw!" Prim is in hysterics. I shush her, pushing her into Galepaw's general vicinity. He nods once at me.
At least my family will be fed. Trickle turns to the next pile of moss-balls eagerly. The system works like this. Each cat has a nest. Their nests will, of course, have their scent on it. They are forced to rip off scraps of moss off their nests and turn them in. Whoever's scrap is chosen will be forced to compete in what is called The Posion Trials. We just call it the Trials. The Head Watcher sniffs the next scrap.
"Larkpaw." My blood turns to ice. Not Larkpaw. Please not Larkpaw. Anyone else, please! Galepaw is watching me. I give a tiny shake of my head. He was thinking of volunteering for Larkpaw. But someone has to feed my family. Because without us, no one will. We supply the whole tribe, just the two of us. I think of Smudgewrinkle, who will only take water vole, or Larkpaw's father, Grimeflask, who will trade squirrel for greens but only when his family isn't around. These people depend on me. And I'm about to get myself killed.
Why am I so upset about Larkpaw? The memory itself is hazy, even to me, and he's the one who saved my life, meaning he most likely won't remember it. The Watchers take us away from the tribe to 'freshen up', as is the custom, which makes me angry. We're from the poorest tribe, where cats starve to death. What could we possibly do?
They separate us, Trinkle walks ahead of me at a brisk pace. "Hurry up now, no dawdling," She snaps. "If I could, I'd go at a snail's pace," I huff quietly. She doesn't hear me, or, if she does, she ignores it. She escorts me to the Head Watcher's den is. It's a pathetic thing, in Trinkle's eyes, but for us, cats who appreciate the importance of warmth and food, it is magnificent. It's sturdily made with ash branches, ivy adorning the sides. It's small, but cozy, and I see how the Head Watcher could enjoy living here.
There are nests inside, pre-made. They have never been used, as far as I can tell. Trinkle chooses the larger, more lavish one, the one decorated with feathers and soft animal pelts. Mine is skimpier, but still cozy and soft. Trinkle is snoring quickly, but I'm revolted. She intrudes on our hospitality and makes everyone in this tribe miserable, and doesn't even feel guilt? The Keepers are twisted, horrible.
I shudder. Sleep doesn't come quickly for me anyways, nevermind with me in the Trials. I need a strategy. I haven't seen any of the other entries, but I can assume everyone will be stronger and more deadly than me. That leaves me one option. Outsmarting the others.
I'm not good at fighting. Well, not the best. I can hunt, so I'm not too worried about starving or getting too dehydrated. I can let the others fight each other, I think I can survive that long. Once there's only a few left, that's when I'll come out.
What about Larkpaw? I wince. I can't kill him. Oh, well. There are eight more contestants. Hopefully they'll kill him before I have to. Hope. I want to scoff. Since when have what I depended on hope? Hope will get me nowhere. Granted, it's the best I can do.
That's okay. Even if I die, Galepaw will feed my family. Primrosepaw will do fine as a healer. She will do fine, and my mother will teach her and- I break off from that train of thought when I realize I'm crying. Trinkle can't hear me, of course she can't. I can hear myself.
I stifle my face in the mossy cover. It's safe here, far away from the horrors of life. My eyelids finally seem heavy. No. I need a plan. I need a strategy! But I'm exhausted, and it's been a long day. My muscles go slack, my eyes close, and sleep lulls me away.
My sister and my mother come in the morning. Prim nestles by my side, shivering. I close my eyes, how will they survive without me? ''Mother." I stare into my mother's horror-struck face. "You have to be strong. No matter what they make us do." My mother nods shakily. "Galepaw will hunt for you, but you have to ration the food. And sometimes he'll bring you herbs, if he can find them. Describe them carefully, because he usually overlooks them." My mother blinks assent. "Prim won't sign up any more than necessary." My voice is harsh. Strong. Prim winces. "B-but what if-" "No." My voice is a low growl. "Don't talk to her like that!" My mother snaps. I hiss, but flatten my hackles. "I'm only your half-sister, Everpaw," Prim reminds me. I narrow my eyes. "Primrosepaw." I don't usually call her her full name. She flinches.
"Time's up." A Keeper growls in our direction. His muzzle is salivating at the tempting scent of cat, and if he attacked, we would all die. But he shows restraint, licking his large maw and turning away. Prim's eyes and my mother's are wide with fright. "Goodbye, Dawnstorm. Bye, Primrosepaw," I say stiffly. Their bodies droop, but I can't feel guilt. I can't afford to be weak.
Then Galepaw enters and all my fears vanish. I can't purr in a moment like this but I come close. He presses his nose to mine. "Keep them fed, please." I beg. He nods, eyes stricken. "Thank you." I murmur. "I should have volunteered for Larkpaw. I know you don't like him." I shake my head. "Who would feed my family? I would have never forgiven you." He sighs. "I guess that's okay." I press myself fiercely to his side. "Galepaw..." He twines his tail with mine. "I want you to know that, regardless of what you'll see... I love you, Galepaw." I murmur. He purrs, then stops. "I love you too." I search his warm gray eyes. "What do I do?" He sighs. "It isn't that different than hunting, Everpaw. Claw the throat or snap the neck. The spine, if necessary." I nod, but still feel a wave of dread and foreboding looming over me.
The same Keeper pokes his head in again. I resist the urge to claw him. Galepaw gives me one last look before padding out. As he leaves, I see a flash of blonde, but that makes no sense. Galepaw is gray, like me. Larkpaw. I grit my teeth. He was spying on me? Ugh. I shudder, I detest him. I guess I can't, not really, because he did save my life, but it didn't count, he didn't see me when he did it.
I was about 11 moons. The Keepers had mauled my father, Tunneltail, and he died. He had taught me how to hunt, but I was scared to leave the safety of camp, if you could call it that. I wandered around, starving, but I refused to go back to my den, because there was my mother, screaming at me and Prim, and then Prim, with her ribs visible and easily countable.
Instead, I stopped by the Watchers' den, they were usually kind to my family. But today they sent me away empty-handed, angry that I hadn't brought them prey. If I had prey, I'd be eating it, I thought savagely. Then I saw Larkpaw. He was my age, except his parents were Watchers, so he ate well. I walked in, tail tucked between my legs, a sign of submission. I sniffed around, hoping for scraps or bones to gnaw on. His mother shouted at me shrilly, screaming about how she was '...tired of those filthy brats scavenging her food!' Then Larkpaw walked in. There was a rabbit in his jaws but it was stale and covered in mud. "Ugh!" She snapped. "Throw it out, I won't eat that." Larkpaw rolled his eyes and dropped it, storming out. I gave his mother a hopeful glance, but she was already curled up, facing the other way. Quickly, I grabbed it and ran.
That's how Larkpaw saved my family. I roll my eyes, a pathetic story. I'm better now though, I overcame my fear of the forest. I storm out, looking for Larkpaw. He isn't there. I snarl quietly to myself, angry. What I would do to pick a fight with that little punk... I straighten. Right now, I need to focus. My mentor should be somewhere in the area, but as I look around, craning my neck, I see no unfamiliar faces. "Who are you looking for?" Someone asks. I resist the urge to jump, instead turning to glare at the cat. "No one, Larkpaw." I sigh exasperated. "I think that's her." He glances behind me, and I follow his gaze. "Who- Oh." My eyes widen in surprise. The least I can do is thank him. "Thank you." He smiles slightly, saying earnestly, "No problem." Then he strides away.
I pad over to my mentor. She's a pretty brown tabby, with leaf-green eyes. Clearly not from around here. "Hello." Her voice is smooth as honey. I dislike her. "My name is Maple. You're Everpaw, aren't you?" I nod once. "Yes." "Good. Are you familiar with hunting?" She asks, beginning to walk away. Her pace is slow, and I find myself falling behind often. "Yes. I can hunt well." I say, my tone guarded. "Excellent. Show me your claws." I unsheathe them for her, uncomfortable at her close scrutiny.
"Sharp. I'm impressed," She says, and there's approval in her tone. "Thank you." She does a full circle around me, surveying me from all angles. "Well, you're fit, and you can hunt," She's clearly relieved I'm not one of the weaker entries. "Is there something wrong?" I fight to keep my voice even. She chuckles. "Not yet. As soon as we get to the Pack," I shudder, being surrounded by dogs for even a day sounds horrible, "We'll begin your training sessions. Have you ever killed a cat?" She asks, pupils dilating. I recoil. "No!" She sits down on her haunches, disappointed. "Expected. Very well." I cock my head. "When do we go?" "We leave today. Two Keepers and a Watcher will accompany us." Her voice is pompous as she adds, "And, of course, dear Trinkle." I hate Trinkle, but I prefer her over Maple.
"Come on, now." Her voice is falsely sympathetic."You should go eat, and say your goodbyes." I grit my teeth, but nod. With the Trials, she's more experienced than me, so I should listen to her advice. But she irritates me so much that it takes tremendous effort to keep my hackles flat. I close my eyes. The sooner this is over, the better.Although hastiness will almost certainly result in my death. If I were one of the betters, I wouldn't bet on me. In fact, I'd wager that when I got back home, I'd be a limp, bloodless body. The wave crashes down on me as it finally sinks in. The Trials are about to begin.
The barking noise sounds the beginning of the trials. I grit my teeth, staring around. I could make a run for it, disappear into the woods... or I could stay. Fight. Get supplies. No. I have to run. My powerful hind legs carry me into the greenery, then into a tree, where I survey the bloodbath.
Larkpaw ran too. A calico she-cat -- so much like Prim that it hurts -- kills a white tom. She's killed by a brown tom, then he's killed by a black she-cat. She gets a soaked rabbit hide and then runs off in an opposite direction. A dog howls three times. Three deaths. Three of the Keepers enter the area and drag away the bodies.
I shudder, staring around at my surroundings for the first time. I realize that there are only seven of us left. Another dog howls. Make that six. My heart thumps. Is it Larkpaw? I get a flash of black fur before the body is dragged away. I can breathe freely. Now. What's my goal? I think back to the training session with the Keepers.
Ah, yes. It's must clearer now. I have to find the highest rock in the area. I wince. Everyone else got the same assignment. We're going to end up fighting each other to the death. I sigh, jumping down from the tree. I can at least get comfortable.
Prey and water. Those are two things I need right now. I scent the air carefully, tastefully. A mouse is scrabbling through the roots in the tree, but it's spooked and poised to run, that won't do. I extend my senses farther, sniffing heavily. There's a wounded rabbit not far off, I think I can take it. Carefully, I follow it's scent, making the quietest noises possible. Soon, I am there, crouching. It's close, I can see it out of the corner of my eye. But where's the injury?
Then I see it. It's leg is cut, bleeding heavily. It's scent has only been caught by my expert nose. I narrow my eyes, stalking it quietly. The ferns rustle around me, and the rabbit spooks. I snarl to myself and begin the chase. It doesn't get far, hindered by its wounded leg. Soon I've eaten, although I could eat more. I had to rip off the leg, not willing to eat it. It looked infected.
Now water is my priority. But then I think of something. Why should I have to do anything when I can rely on others? I give a knowing smile, knowing the dogs, with their acute senses, can see me through all of this foliage. I scent again, and now I can scent two cats. One of them smells faintly like blood, meaning they just ate. The other cat smells like a salty breeze. A salty breeze. Saltwater. That isn't good.
I decide to go towards the cat that has eaten. Perhaps we can form an alliance. Soon, though, I realize this won't be an option. I have a shadow, so to speak. I whirl around, claws unsheathed. My eyes narrow at the black she-cat. "Hello." Her voice is guarded. Mine is a low snarl when I reply, "Do you want me to kill you?" She smirks. "You wouldn't." "Don't underestimate me," I warn, and there is something in my gaze that makes her sly demeanor flicker.
"I want to team up." Her voice sends doubt ricocheting through me. She seems a valuable asset, but something tells me if I turned my back she would use it to kill me. "I'm okay." I reply coldly. She snarls. "If I can't help you, I'll have to kill you." I stare at her uncomprehendingly.
Her claws slide out and she lunges at me. I duck and run. She's hot in pursuit, my blood is pounding in my ears. I get an idea, and veer sharply to the left, toward a grove of trees. I'm tired, but I have to keep going. Soon, I've lost her. Well, not lost, per se. No, she's here. She isn't locked on me, though. I sigh. It seems I will have to kill her.
My claws slide out and I creep forward. The rest is a blur. The only memorable thing is when I snap out of a haze. She's dead at my paws, my muzzle and claws stained with blood. I stare down in horror. Then I know why everyone who fights in these Trials is changed for life. These Trials will haunt me. Forever.