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The forest was brimming with life. Sprawling scorch marks still scarred the ground, but grass was spouting over it and the clearings were laced with delicate flowers. A plump robin nested on a high tree branch, poking it's beak through its feathers. It's head snapped upward suddenly and it glared through the trees, chirping uneasily.

There was a sudden flash of brown fur, and the robin spread it's small wings and shot up into the air, coming clear of the outstretched claws of a fluffy brown tomcat. He was a longer-furred brown tabby apprentice, his fur ruffled and his tufted ears pressed against his head.

"I was so close this time!" he hissed, clawing at the ground with unsheathed claws. Frustration pulsed like poison in his mind. Come on, Bearpaw, pull yourself together, he scolded himself. He heaved a sigh as a calico-pelted she-cat slid out of the bushes nearby. His mentor, Doetrail, flicked her ears and blinked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Bearpaw." She winced and Bearpaw's guts sank down to his paws. "You just didn't make the cut. You hardly passed the swimming assessment, you flopped the tracking assessment, Sablepaw beat you in the battle, and now you lost a fat robin that even a mere kit could outpace!" She looked more furious than him. She inhaled deeply and looked away. "Now we both look like failures. I know you can do better."

Bearpaw felt embarrassment burn his face. Each word Doetrail spoke felt like a wave of cold water splashing against his face. He opened his mouth angrily, but a sudden rustle from a nearby clump of brambles made both of them glance sharply towards the source of the sound.

The sleek bengal pelt of Sablepaw bounded out of the leaves. Her long tail streamed behind her and there was a shining expression on her face. "How'd you do?" she exclaimed, rushing to his side and brushing her pelt against his.

Bearpaw lashed his tail. "Not good enough."

Sablepaw leaned closer towards him, her purr coming to an abrupt halt, her eyes wide. "You - what?" She looked around at Doetrail, her eyes starting to narrow and become sharp.

"He didn't pass, and I can't control that," Doetrail snapped, her calico shoulder fur bristling slightly. She turned a reproachful glare onto Sablepaw. Fawnpath padded out of the hole in the bushes her apprentice had made, widening it slightly and grimacing as the thorns dragged at her wider pelt.

Her eyes were twinkling with pride, though she looked a little sad. "Sablepaw passed," she announced in a voice too excited for Bearpaw's liking.

Doetrail's eyes closed briefly. She forced them open and stared helplessly at her sister. "Bearpaw didn't pass. He sorted his pebbles wrong as well as failing most of the tests. I don't know what to do. I wonder what Mousescramble would have done. She was always looked up to. . . . I really am stumped."

Indignation welled up in Bearpaw's heart, blocking out his worry and sadness. "I'm still standing here, you know!" he snapped, unsheathing his claws slightly and breathing deeply through his nose. He dug his claws into a soft, deep-green moss growing on a tree root next to him. "I tried my best, but I guess I wasn't good enough. I'll never be good enough."

He spun around on his back paws and whipped his feathery tail behind him. He heard an angry snort from Sablepaw but ignored her. He stalked away through the forest, thinking hard.

I'll never get to be a real warrior, he thought in despair as he followed the path as it winded around large tree trunks. His pads were hardened from all the training he had done in the past four moons, and he could hardly feel the rocks poking against his paws anymore. Forever on, I'll be the failure. Tears pricked his eyes. Doetrail was right. Maybe I should've stayed in that void.

Bearpaw shook out his fluffy pelt, trying to dislodge his thoughts for the time being. He pricked his ears as the quiet swishing of a stream reached his ears. In just a few more pawsteps, he had dragged his paws to the small branch-bridge that was laid across the stream. He streaked across it, no longer fearful of the midsts of the swirling water.

He still was sheepish about his fall into river on his first day as an apprentice, but everyone laughed about it and joyously congratulated him on how far he'd come from being a shy apprentice. And I haven't changed very much, he thought, twitching an ear as the camp came slowly into view.

The leaves of oak trees all around him whispered in the breeze, but he tried to focus on his pawsteps. And what was ahead.

So much had changed, still. Ever since he and his sister had come back to camp - that fateful day after the battle with the demons - purring loudly and with their tails sticking straight in the air, Ashenpoppy and Acornrustle had been cheerful. Battlewish has gazed knowingly at them, but Bearpaw was convinced his parents would become mates again and took no notice.

Bearpaw was always glimpsing Ashenpoppy sharing tongues with Cranewing and watching Milkkit and Luckykit, though. It was clear the grey she-cat had taken on a new mate. . . .

Bearpaw basked in the nonchalant chatter of cats in camp for a few heartbeats. Nobody else was worried about failed assessments. They were happy, sharing tongues and mewing contentedly. He padded into camp, wondering wether or not he should break the bad news to his parents.

Not a single cat glanced towards him except his best friend - besides Sablepaw, of course - Pumpkinpaw. The lush-furred ginger tomcat bounced to his paws and darted over to Bearpaw. His brow was furrowed.

"What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.

"I didn't pass," Bearpaw grunted, starting at his paws.

Pumpkinpaw's voice was warm and bracing as he mewed, "Well, at least now you'll most likely be able to do your's at the same time as mine." His long fur tingled against Bearpaw's, and Bearpaw felt a little calmer. "I think right now you need to tell Ashenpoppy. And if you feel up to it, Acornrustle."

Bearpaw flinched. Acornrustle, as the Clan deputy, would be angry without a doubt. He always expected so much from him and would get irritated sometimes at the smallest things. He flicked his tail-tip angrily. If only he wasn't so horrible at being a warrior. His father was always snapping at him over not burying his prey bones after eating, even when he had just forgotten once in a whole moon. Acornrustle has changed ever since the secret about Luckykit and Milkkit came out.

"I'll tell Ashenpoppy first," Bearpaw decided quietly, looking up into Pumpkinpaw's determined features. His friend nodded knowingly.

"I'm sure she'll be more sympathetic towards you," the ginger tomcat purred, curling his tail over Bearpaw's shoulders. Bearpaw grinned, and only hesitated for a few moments before trudging off towards the nursery. His spirits were considerably higher now that he had gotten support from Pumpkinpaw, but his failure pulled him down like a heavy stone set in his stomach.

Bearpaw pressed forward, directing his paws towards the nursery. They seemed to be rooted to the spot as he finally inched his way towards the nursery. There were high-pitched voices sounding from inside, along with two female queen voices.

"Are you okay, Milkkit?"

"I'm sure he's good, Lambstep."

"Fine, Ashenpoppy."

"Luckykit. You better say 'sorry' this instant!"

"Whyyyy? It wasn't my fault."

Bearpaw stepped cautiously through the nursery den entrance. Ashenpoppy was laying in her nest, curled around Milkkit, who was crying out. The tom-kit's long milky white pelt had become more pronounced with caramel-coloured stripes over the past moons.

Another queen had joined the den. The queen's large cornflower-blue eyes were tinged with worry and she was gazing uneasily at Luckykit. Luckykit's honey pelt was bristling, and she looked furious. "I don't like that one's attitude," Lambstep murmured, her slightly curled white pelt fluffing out. She was soft enough so that only Bearpaw could hear, but he pretended not to notice.

"Ashenpoppy . . . I failed," Bearpaw mewed weakly, preparing himself for anger. But Ashenpoppy's eyes did not glow with an upset light. She looked crestfallen, but looked at her son with pity.

She reached out her tail and curled it around him, pushing Milkkit away from her and into Lambstep's nest. Lambstep smiled and nestled the whimpering Milkkit into her own mossy nest. Luckykit stomped away into the camp, and Ashenpoppy watched her in a dismayed expression for a moment before turning to Bearpaw.

"It's alright, Bearpaw," Ashenpoppy breathed in his ear, pulling him close like he was a kit again and rasping her tongue softly over his ears. It was comforting, and he closed his eyes. "We can't all do everything. You'll be able to try again soon."

Bearpaw opened his eyes and gazed at her, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue sour. "But what if . . . I fail again? What will happen?"

"You won't fail again, I'm sure of it," his mother meowed firmly, pausing in cleaning him. She continued after a second, her gentle breath warm on his head. A tear threatened to fall from his eyes, but Bearpaw held it back. He knew exactly what Ashenpoppy was going to say to him next.

"You need to tell your father."

Bearpaw nodded and slowly got to his paws. He tried to ignore the icy venom in her voice. He gave her ear a swift lick in turn before stepping out of the den. Luckykit was outside the den, her eyes shaded and expression dark.

"Done pampering Milkkit?" she hissed at Bearpaw as he passed, her ears flat on her small head. The muscles in his face tightened.

"You shouldn't talk to Ashenpoppy or me like that!" he snapped, flushing with annoyance. Luckykit glared at him, and he was unnerved by the mutinous look on her face. It was hateful, and it was something he didn't think should reside on such a young face. He frowned, but the kit had stalked away before he could say anything more.

Acornrustle conveniently - or, not so conveniently for Bearpaw's sake but good for the opportunity to say the thing he needed to say though he dreaded it - was padding across the clearing, his chin high.

With a nervous start, Bearpaw stumbled to his father. The Clan deputy looked around and saw him. "How did your assessment go?" Acornrustle asked briskly, his eyes sharp.

"I failed," Bearpaw mumbled, shuffling his paws and staring down at his mud-clogged claws. He heard the sharp intake of breath from Acornrustle that meant he had heard perfectly well what Bearpaw had said.

"You are not to go and do anything with your friends until you pass," Acornrustle growled, advancing on Bearpaw. "You will have training with me every evening until you pass as well. Now go. Do something useful other than be a disgrace to my kin." The deputy sniffed his son's pelt and grimaced. Bearpaw knew he had scented Ashenpoppy, for he tossed his head disdainfully. Acornrustle swept away, his tail lashing angrily.

Bearpaw stared after his father's receding form. Never had he felt like such a failure. Because that's all he ever was and ever would be. A failure.