But what do you say t[o] taking chances?

Ottopaw awoke with a start, staggering to his paws with his tawny sides heaving fitfully. The dark creatures that plagued his dreams had deprived him of his sleep once again, their shadowy shapes still shifting in and out of his vision as he slowly came to.

When he was awake enough to shake off the drowsiness still clinging to his mind, he swept his soft gold gaze over his surroundings, blinking jadedly as he did so. Then noticing that the few eyes left in the apprentice den were now scrutinising him because of his little outburst, he settled back down on his haunches ineptly, his face growing warm under his fur. Sometimes he wished he could just disappear.

Deciding that he might as well do his best to do so, the piebald tabby rose hastily to his paws once more and lurched towards the dim light that filtered in through the entrance. Realising with a soft groan that his wretched hindleg had once again stiffened up, he shambled outside and winked uncomfortably into the powerful sunlight that beat down mercilessly on the camp.

Ottopaw hadn’t always been lame, although he fancied that he would never have to be. But an unfortunate accident had maimed the young tom’s hind leg beyond repair, completely shattering the bone. And although it had eventually healed, the limb had set in an awkward way that left the tom unable to walk without limping. To his misfortune, the time he spent recuperating also meant that he was unable to receive a mentor or any warrior training. And now that it was apparent how much his disability encumbered him, not a single soul came forward to guide him - no cat wanted to take on an apprentice that couldn’t even walk properly.

Ottopaw let loose a subdued sigh, making his way towards the fresh kill. Trying not to drag his still dead limb behind him, he forcefully ignored the piercing sensation of ‘pins and needles’ that prickled along the leg. Seeing Smallshadow and Scarletpaw, he decided to drown out the irritation of his affliction by getting a bit of social interaction. Settling down nearby with a meal hooked in his claws, he directed a still slightly groggy, jovial smile in their direction. “What a sinister heat, huh?”

Ottopaw tipped his head towards Smallshadow. “I don’t envy you,” he remarked, although not callously. To the tom the heat was already beyond what he could stand, and just the thought of having a few more layers of fur to himself would seem like torture. He couldn’t help but be glad that he had a rather short pelt, despite its average colour. “It’s Ottopaw, and if I remember right... Tinyshadow?” His features got a touch of flush to them, recalling names were certainly not his strong spot.

His golden eyes settled back on Scarletpaw, and he pricked an ear at her words. “Ottopaw,” he repeated again, the corner of his smile tugging up in a lopsided grin. But as soon as he noticed her scrutinising his warped leg, the warmth in his gaze faded a little. Would she comment on it? Perhaps even taunt him like so many of the other heartless, snickering apprentices? He wanted to consider that most cats weren’t like that, but many were beginning to prove him wrong.

Regardless of what he expected to hear, her words surprised him. They weren’t snide or hurtful, but rather just awfully frank and contrite. “Oh that...” Directing a rueful look at Scarletpaw, his eyes widened a fraction at the tumult of emotion flickering over her face. He didn’t want her to feel bad for him, that was the least he wanted. Cats like that, they always tended to be distant. He could visualize there penetrating eyes trailing him and thinking, what a poor bugger. I’m glad that didn’t happen to me. And if they did ever speak to him, it wasn’t to make a real conversation, but rather they just felt sorry for his misfortune.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not like this wretched leg is your fault,” his smile was a small one, but the words were painfully honest. His leg was his own fault, his own stupid fault. The words lingered in his mind. “It happened on the thunderpath, I was being ridiculous, and this is what I earned myself,” the set of his face gained a grim tone, but he quickly smothered it with a blank look.

[color=black][font=times new roman]Ottopaw’s expression grew rather astonished as Scarletpaw spoke; he wasn’t expecting her to tell him that. While many cats proclaimed quite strongly they were sorry, they didn’t complement him like she had just. Although he wasn’t that sure it could be labelled a complement, especially for such a topic. He glanced at her with soft, golden eyes, his gaze becoming somewhat bashful. Her words ‘You must be real brave, and real strong,’ echoed in his mind. Don’t let it go to your head, he chided himself, he was neither of those things. At least not anymore, his courage had faded when his disability overwhelmed him.

At the wonder dancing across her features and something else nudging him on, prompted him to do something he rarely ever did. Raising his voice, “If you would like to hear the full story, I… could tell. I mean, I don’t mind,” he dropped his shoulders in a gentle shrug, his tone softly hushed. “It would feel good, just to have a few people that knew…” He hated keeping it cooped up inside of him, all the guilt and shame that plagued him. But then, would Scarletpaw even want to let it out?

The piebald tabby tucked his leg tighter against his body, blinking at her with a thoughtful look. “Game?” He considered the question for a moment, trying to think of one that he might not always had the disadvantage in. Tag was out of the question, he would be the one constantly it, which wouldn’t be much fun. Perhaps if he tried hard enough, he may be able to evade her, but running after the other apprentice would be too much of a struggle. The more he thought about it, the more optimism in the subject faded from him. Could he play any games, without wounding everyone’s fun? “I… don’t know.”

[color=black][font=times new roman]Ottopaw managed a rueful shake of his head at her apology, silently accepting the fact that was there was no point in attempting to play any games. But still, he didn’t want her feeling abject about it; it was something he could live with. It wasn’t like games weren’t essential to life… yet that didn’t really comfort him. And darker thoughts flickered in his mind at that view, what if he couldn’t accomplish even the essential things? He would be just an unreliable cripple that couldn’t even hunt for himself, a liability to his Clan. He forcefully pushed the thought away, these were things to consider when you didn’t have company.

Realising he gotten caught in his dark thoughts and left the other apprentice waiting on his answer, he blinked rapidly and shook of the haze of gloominess draped over his mind. Thinking on it again, he was certainly glad he had her company, otherwise he might have just been left to brood yet another day. “It’s not exactly anything memorable… or the nicest story,” he told her, his tone growing a bit hesitant. “In fact, it’s hardly impressive at all.” Why was he stalling, he wondered at himself. He was the one offering to enlighten her on his past, but yet he couldn’t help but feel exposed, and he hadn’t even told her yet! Steadying himself, he directed his eyes towards the fringe of forest circling the camp and tried to find just the right words to start his narrative.

“We were looking out over the thunderpath, just curious I guess. Her name was Robinpaw, You could say she was my best friend, and… my only. We were being silly, and we certainly shouldn’t have been where we were,” he peered at Scarletpaw and tried to judge her expression. “Normally, the monsters just keep going down the thunderpath as if you aren’t even there. But it was so strange, one actually slowed down and then stopped right next to us. Robinpaw, well she was always too inquisitive for her own good, she walked straight up to it and was laughing about something when a twoleg got out. It was so sudden, it just grabbed her and then got back in. In an instant the monster was coming alive again, and beginning to move…” he mused softy, his voice gaining a dream like quality. In his mind he was replaying the scene, reflecting on what he might have been able to do different. If maybe he had stopped Robinpaw, or never suggested seeing the thunderpath, none of it would have happened.

“I was just a kit then, it was only my second time seeing one of those things. I could hear Robinpaw crying for help, and I didn’t know what to do… so I threw myself at the monsters paw, thinking that I could stop it. As soon as I hit it, it hurled me backward. And then I was suddenly on the thunderpath, with another monster bearing down on me,” a frown tugged at his muzzle. “I guess you can guess what happened next. I think I must have gone unconscious, because I woke up in the medicine den reeking of herbs and thunderpath. No one found Robinpaw, she had just disappeared.” He curled his muzzle in a sad smile, wondering what Scarletpaw would think of him now that he had gotten his story out.

[color=black][font=times new roman]“I wish I was strong,” Ottopaw’s mutter was almost inaudible as he stared hard at his twisted hind leg. Yes, that was one of his foremost desires, to be strong. Not emotionally or mentally, but in the flesh. To be… normal? Or just as close to it he could get. A flicker of a frown passed over his features as darker thoughts overwhelmed his mind. Why did his existence have to be such a sob story? Why couldn’t he just have a life like everyone else? He wouldn’t care if it was average, just as long as he could become a warrior, mentor an apprentice, and perhaps even find a mate. As long as he didn’t have to be so maimed… that he couldn’t accomplish anything.

Realising he was letting himself slither into his listless thoughts once again, which wasn’t good for keeping company, he started in a more amiable tone. “Actually… that’s the first time I told anyone that…” the piebald tabby confessed, his gaze leaping to his paws as he spoke those soft words. “I like to think that maybe Robinpaw’s okay. That she’s somewhere out there, living her life just like me. That maybe, if I try hard enough I could find her some day,” he continued a little less sombrely, trying to let some light into his voice. He wasn’t quite sure if he would ever make it that far. Maybe he would just snap one day and end up a gibbering elder? But he was determined to not, despite how insane his leg drove him. “But… thanks Scarletpaw… for listening,” he peered at her with an appreciative expression on his face. “It felt good to let someone else know, other than myself.”

He didn’t quite know why he wanted to confer with this she-cat? She wasn’t quite a stranger, and then she wasn’t exactly a close friend. But he didn’t have really any genuine friends, perhaps she just might be the closest thing to it? Someone who didn’t wonder at him every time they saw him. Someone he felt… kind of normal with. Seeking to change the conversation to something brighter, he tried a cheery smile on his muzzle. “So, what’s your story?” The tom was curious about his new acquaintance, and she now knew a great deal about him than he knew about her.

[align=center][color=black][font=trebuchet ms]ooc || Oh! I just noticed where your ooc’s were, sorry if I seemed snobbish by unintentionally ignoring you.
And don’t worry, we are all inactive sometimes c:

Ottopaw’s eyes widened at her demeanour, wondering if it was him that had set off her reaction? Did he respond to her words wrong, or had he unearthed something that the she-cat meant to keep deep insde her and never talk about? Silently cursing himself for something he might have done, the tabby tom inched close enough to sweep his thick tail around her in an awkward, yet hopefully soothing gesture. Ottopaw had never been caught in a situation quite like this, and he had to suppress the colour that rose to his face at his contact with the she-cat.

It was then he could comprehend her cheerless words. She was talking about her father, for a moment he had worried she was speaking about some elusive tom, but this made sense, although it didn’t make him feel any better. Ducking his head down her tried meet her eyes with his soft golden gaze, thinking furiously of anything he could use to comfort her. “Scarletpaw?” He spoke in a gentle voice, yet it was firm as well. “No. That’s not true. You don’t know the full story, so you can’t let your mind play tricks on you.” He curled his tail tighter around her, hoping the words significant enough to turn back her melancholy mood. “And if he did, then he doesn’t deserve you. If he didn’t care, then you shouldn’t have to care about him. He doesn’t matter - if he didn’t think you were worth it. Because you are.”

[align=center][color=black][font=trebuchet ms]A diffident smile played itself across Ottopaw’s face. “Of course Scarlet.” While he wasn’t quite conscious of the words pouring off his tongue - they just happened of their own accord – he was exceedingly aware of her unhappiness, his own heart heavy in his chest as he saw the moisture in her eyes. “And even if your father thought of you like that, does your mother? sisters? brothers… your friends? Then it doesn’t matter, because what’s the thought of one cat against so many others that care about you?”

Her father was truly despicable if what Scarletpaw said was accurate. But tried not to judge too much, as neither of them had a really valid idea of him, but Ottopaw couldn’t help but loath the cat for a long moment. He was ambivalent towards his own ‘mystery’ father, and while the tom had often wondered about him as a naïve kit, he now had simply too many things on his plate to fetch up such fantasies about a cat he was likely to never know. But he preferred it that way; he didn’t want to end up in Scarletpaw’s situation. He didn’t want to have to wonder if his father had ever loved him… ever wanted him…

“And it’s okay,” he meowed gently. “Were all allowed to be emotional, it… keeps us sane,” he tried his little joke on for size, hoping that it would cheer her up a bit.