kill your heroes [maskpaw]

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It had been slow, creeping over him like tar. By the time he realized his fur was slicked against his skin, he could do nothing but struggle and screech in vain. He had been trapped, remained motionless, powerless. Cowardice, anger, envy, fear – they had come to consume him. They had settled quietly in the back of his mind, so quietly he had barely been able to notice their presence – at least not until they were far too powerful to combat. Not until they had their hold, had sunk their claws into him. And in a sense, perhaps, he was somewhat willing to submit to them. He was too weak, too tired to fight back. He welcomed the repose, the excuse. He figured it would consume him, a welcome sort of death. It would settle over him, lull him to sleep, and it would all end. This was a depressing sort of outlook. And a part of him knew he didn’t truly wish for his own death. Yet there it was, that thought, that realization that he could have fought. He could have pushed it away. He could have been something – someone – different. But a part of him, a cowardly weak part, had chosen not to.

He tried to push these thoughts away, tried to ward them off. But they were his companions, a depressingly constant friend. He shook his head, feeling foolish. So many others had more reason than he to frown, to bemoan their consequences. Hell, Bluesmoke could barely walk, so badly were his paws scarred. Bluesmoke’s father was dead, his paws scarred, his fellow apprentice burned beyond recognition. And yet it was Shalefall who found himself complaining, dragging his paws. He disgusted himself, he truly did. It seemed he was made individually of two very separate emotions – disgust and love. For he loved Bluesmoke more than he cared to admit. The other tom was his rock, his support, the thing that kept him moving. But in this moment, sitting beneath the Burnt Sycamore, Shalefall could not let his thoughts wander to his beloved mate. Any moment now, a young apprentice would appear through the foliage – a prospect Shalefall was not yet entirely pleased with. He had very little experience with youth, and generally found them troublesome. But he had been assigned a job – and woe be it from him to attempt to cross the mighty Froststar. He would sooner have bitten off his own tail.

He was not in any way pleased with his current situation. The most disappointing thing about his current predicament was that this day had begun with the prospect of being especially delightful. He’d slept late, far past a usual time, and as a consequence he had awoken refreshed and feeling more alert than he had in moons. He’d been relieved to see that his brother Slatefur had already risen and gone, the scent in his nest growing staler by the minute. And considering Slatefur’s propensity for generally wandering about, wasting the day away, it was likely he wouldn’t return until late. He tended to do his best to shirk any possible duties assigned to him. Now, this had left Shalefall with the very appealing prospect of a leisurely breakfast alone. He’d strolled over towards the fresh-kill pile, momentarily feeling disappointment weighing on him. He’d quite forgotten about the snow that covered the ground, and the seasonal scarcity of prey. He attempted to cheer himself at the prospect of a skinny mouse. Instead, nestled in with the foolish rodents still imbecilic enough to wander about in the open, was a fat sparrow. It was as if Starclan itself were shining down upon him in all its glory. After all, sparrows were his favorite meal.

And now he was here, awaiting an apprentice he hadn’t asked for. One whom, if the gossip was to be believed, would not be an entirely easy creature to get along with. Shalefall took a breath. Bluesmoke would have chastised him, urged him to be kinder. The other tom was far wiser, far more controlled than Shalefall ever hoped to be. His ears flicked back then perked as a twig snapped. A smile floated across his lips and he called out, somewhat amused, “I heard that!” His eyes were glued in the direction of the snap, about at the level he knew Maskpaw’s eyes would be.

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[WARNING! Anything that happens within this dream is all within his head and has nothing to do with StarClan/Dark Forest/or plot. However, it has everything to do with character development for Maskpaw in the future.] It was very dark in the area around him. Everywhere he looked there was darkness. He could see the trees above him and the grass below him, but the world around him was different shades of gray and black. The only color that he could see was the colors of his own fur. Forcing himself to breathe calmly he shifted his gaze throughout the clearing. He was in the middle of the ShadowClan camp. But the camp was empty. He was alone. For the moment anyway. "Look what you've done Maskpaw!"

[/b]

Spinning around to face the camp entrance his eyes landed on a cat standing within the gap. It was his mother, Blackrose. Her expression was murderous. Her once kind blue eyes glared at him with a hatred that he could not escape. He folded his ears against the back of his head. Fearing the abuse that she might inflict on him he took a couple steps back. "Blackrose..." He couldn't speak another word because she hissed in a crazed fury. But, she didn't reply anymore for she looked up at something that was standing behind Maskpaw. Her expression was one of fear as she dashed through the camp entrance. Turning in his spot he found Froststar standing directly behind him glaring down at him with a similar expression to his mother. Except this time with a sense of justice instead of hate.

"Maskpaw, for the murder of your father, you are here by banished from ShadowClan forever."

He could feel his controlled breathing become heavy and fearful. Shaking his head vigorously he could feel his entire being shiver uncontrollably. "No, no... he's missing! I didn't kill him! He's missing! It's not my fault!" He gasped. With the rest of ShadowClan backing her up, the leader and his group advanced on him and began to push him out of the camp. "I'm not even a skilled enough apprentice to kill a full fledged warrior!" As they were pushing him out of the camp, two things came to his attention. First was the body in the far side corner of the clearing. Second was the drifting and damp scent of his mother. She was waiting for him out side the camp. And his former clan was pushing him right into a trap.

Glancing behind himself, he noticed that there was no longer any forest, plants, or anything. Just emptiness. Fear over came him and he felt his fur stand on end and his eyes widened at the thought of falling into that darkness never to exist. To be forever alone and to be known by no one and forgotten by everyone. He screeched in fear as Froststar spoke his name, in the process made him flinch and fall into the darkness. He could still hear Froststar calling his name as he fell, deep into the blackhole where no light could survive.

"Maskpaw! Wake up! Shalefall came in earlier, asking for you! You shouldn't make him wait any longer." The young apprentice flinched awake at his sister's voice, but other then that he made no indication that he had dreamed a nightmare. He laid in his bedding until his heart stopped racing like a rabbit running from a WindClan warrior.

Your father's not dead. He's been missing for a moon. You had nothing to do with his disappearance. But... why did Raccoontail leave? If thats what he did... No! Stop! Its time to learn. Learn how to be a warrior. The best warrior.

Carefully and calmly Maskpaw stood up from his bedding and slipped out of the den without disturbing the other apprentices who didn't have training this morning. I need to familiar myself with his scent. He'll probably be at the Sycamore tree. But I should still follow my nose to get to him. It's a skill I need to learn to become the warrior Blackrose wants me to be.

Using his nose and an open mouth, he searched for his mentor's scent. It wasn't too hard to find since he had been the most recent body at the door and he had made the connection at the apprentice ceremony. Following it out the camp entrance, Maskpaw began to bound into the pine trees. He followed the scent into the bushes. He was a new apprentice and would be treated as such. Wrinkling his nose, he told himself that he would not be treated that way for long.

Reaching the training clearing, Maskpaw saw Shalefall waiting for him. He was alone in the hollow and Maskpaw wondered where the other apprentices were today. He didn't care for long because as he took a silent step forward, he realized that it wasn't as silent as he had intended it to be.

Snap! went the stick under his paw and Maskpaw couldn't help but wince in annoyance. And suddenly they were face to face, even though Maskpaw was still hidden behind some bush branches. "I heard that!" Said Shalefall, clearly amused. Feeling a little shocked at what had just happened, Maskpaw didn't respond for a moment. But he recovered quickly and stepped out of the bushes and into the clearing, gazing right back at the older tom with an unwavering gaze.

"I wasn't hiding."[/blockquote]
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Maskpaw was a brand new apprentice. From what little Shalefall knew of the young tom, he was at least six moons old, probably seven or eight. His warrior ceremony was sneaking up on him, or would begin to soon. With this in mind, Shalefall had built up expectations for the young tom. He had expected someone reasonably well-trained, who knew what a mentor would want from him. What he had apparently been presented with was nothing of the sort. Even from his muttered voice, those first few strings of words, a single thing had become apparent – this wasn’t going to be an altogether pleasant ordeal, not in the least.

Shalefall frowned as the young apprentice made his presence known. Barely a minute into their session, and Maskpaw was full of attitude, an undercurrent of snarkiness. If there was anything Shalefall didn’t appreciate, it was childhood rebellion. Apprentices, even young warriors, seemed possessed of this idea of everything the world owed them. There was this horrid sense of entitlement. They seemed obsessed with the idea of their own greatness, of everything they deserved. Yet when they grew older, and life truly began forcing their attention – they realized they were owed nothing. Life wasn’t fair, it wasn’t just, it didn’t reward for good and punish for bad. Life was blind, unbiased, uncaring. But was this even truly important, at this moment? Shalefall had sunken into a philosophical headspace, one he generally preferred to stay away from. And today wasn’t meant for his meanderings, his wonderings and self-loathing. Whether he liked it or not, he had a duty to perform. And that duty was standing before him, a frown on his face and muttered words waiting on the tip of his young tongue. Shalefall took a breath. He would need every ounce of his inner strength for the task ahead.

Shalefall blinked, his ears flicking as he replied. “I didn’t say you were, I was insinuating that you should have.” He stood, shaking out his fur as he did so. He padded towards Maskpaw, flicking the young tom with his tail as he spoke. “You’re what, six, seven moons old? You’re approaching your majority, your adulthood.” He indicated signs of Maskpaw’s growth, the loss of his kitten fur, the subtle signs of aging and maturity. Shalefall moved away again, back towards the towering ashen sycamore. If he had been a Thunderclanner, he might have leapt into the branches, scaled higher and higher until he could touch the sky. But he was no such creature. Instead he turned around, canting his head. “What if I had attacked you? Tell me, honestly, would you have been prepared?” From Maskpaw’s carelessness, Shalefall guessed that he wouldn’t have. Actually, Shalefall knew it to be so. He wasn’t accusing the young tom, mocking him or chastising him. He was explaining himself, his point, in the best way he could. After all, he was still relatively young himself. In terms of speaking to apprentices, of working with them, he was rusty at best. How long had it been since Sparrowchirp earned her warrior name? He couldn’t even remember any longer. The days had run together in the back of his mind.

He shook his head slightly, lifting a paw to his lips. He swiped his tongue over his toes, cleaning away clinging bits of mud and debris. He’d spent most of the night out wandering the territory. Bluesmoke hadn’t slept well, and as happened many nights – he’d slept walk right out of camp. And true to his nature, Shalefall had followed. He always followed, and would until the day he died. He never regretted a single moment spent with Bluesmoke, spent giving his mate what little comfort was available. Yet in mornings, afternoons such as this – the exhaustion settled heavily on his paws. It made him irritable, snappish – more so than usual. He lowered his paw back to the ground, looking evenly at Maskpaw, waiting for some version of the retort he knew was coming.

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Maskpaw didn't directly respond as shalefall watched him for a small assessment. he's weighing me out. trying to judge how well i'll do with his training. what is he gonna do if he doesn't like me? give me back to the nursery? unlikely. he can't do that anyway. he could probably get me demoted for awhile if he's upset enough, but that is also unlikely. he kept his expression emotionless as the tom then started speaking. here comes the lecture. “You’re what, six, seven moons old? You’re approaching your majority, your adulthood.”

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no duh i'm six moons old, thats the age a kit becomes an apprentice. he thought keeping his eyes forward. then he flinched slightly as shalefall flicked at his fur and flank with his tail. it took all of maskpaw's strength not to claw him in the face or give much away about how he was feeling. when the tom moved away from him maskpaw forced himself to relax his muscles and racing heart.

he seemed to be lost in thought for a second then turned around and continued speaking. “What if I had attacked you? Tell me, honestly, would you have been prepared?”[/b]

and suddenly maskpaw could feel his entire world crashing around him. had he been prepared? no, he had not been. he had been thinking about his own problems and had not really been paying attention to the world around him. great shadowclan... he's right... i need to know everything going on around me at all times, if i don't someone could sneak up on me...

he quickly overcame his shock and looked back at shalefall with his usual hard gaze. "shalefall, what should i have done to be prepared."

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In all honesty, Shalefall had been preparing himself for argument. In a way, he was always prepared for a fight. He was on edge, perpetually searching to defend himself from perceived slights and insults. A hundred cruel retorts, pointed remarks, to crush Maskpaw back into place – to reinstall the needed respect an apprentice had for their mentor. Each of these was on the tip of his tongue, prepared for the moment of necessity. But that moment never came. The shock must have flicked across his gaze. A certain wariness filled him. In his experience – there were only degrees of judgment, degrees to which he was inadequate in comparison with his fellow warriors. And of course his revealed committed romantic relationship with Bluesmoke hadn’t made things better exactly.

Shalefall paused, flicking his gaze over Maskpaw. He cleared his throat, slightly awkwardly. Yet to allow Maskpaw to see the degree to which he had been caught unawares was unwise. He nodded his head sharply, more to himself than to anyone else. He indicated the bushes from which Maskpaw had emerged with a tilt of his chin. “Our thick swamp forest land is life and death and you have to be aware of both qualities. Don’t use it, be with it.” The words were superficial really, more lofty than useful. But Shalefall moved on quickly. “You want to cloak yourself in silence.” He moved forward, not to an uncomfortable distance, but enough so he could indicate places on Maskpaw’s body comfortably. “You carry too much weight in your back paws, which puts you off balance.” His tail flicked to indicate each paw as he spoke. “You want everything to be even, it will heighten your reflexes, your very awareness.” He dropped into a crouch to indicate, his weight automatically scattered evenly over his body.

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the young apprentice caught the quick look of shock on his mentor's expression, but ignored it completely. he was pretty sure it had something to do with how maskpaw had reacted to shalefall's short explination, but honestly, maskpaw wasn't really there to cause trouble. he was there to learn how to survive another day. maskpaw sat and listened to his mentor speak quite intently. he watched the tom carefully and studied his every move. when shalefall had finished speaking maskpaw moved from where he was standing to walk around the tom in front of him and gaze at his position. he wondered how that was possible. how could he distribute his weight equally onto each paw. he was used to putting most of his weight on his back paws. what was shalefall doing differently? he's leaning forward onto his front paws, in the process, lightening the rest of the weight on his back paws. is he balance this way? maskpaw thought about nudging or shoving shalefall to find out, but decided that the tom wouldn't appreciate it very much and turned from the idea. then he thought he might try the stance himself. so he moved back from looking at shalefall and studied his own paws and footing. then he dropped into a crouch the way that he had seen his mentor show him and once again looked back at own footing. "like this?" he asked.

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Shalefall was still partially recovering from the newfound respect that his apprentice was showing him. But he forced his attention onto the task at hand. He rose from his own crouch, peering at Maskpaw’s evenly distributed weight. It was much improved, truly. He nodded his approval, flicking his tail to indicate the younger tom’s powerful legs as he spoke. “You can raise and lower yourself as is necessary, whether you be stalking or simply walking. But remember this feeling, the distribution. It will become habitual, like second nature.” He circled around so he faced Maskpaw, then dropped into a crouch of his own. His body was lean, not unusually so, but well-muscled and hardened from moons of training.

“We’re going to start with basic offensive/defensive positioning and moves.” He flicked his tail, keeping steady eye-contact with Maskpaw as he did so, never breaking contact. He paused. In truth it had been long moons since he had trained an apprentice, and he didn’t remember himself as a particularly gifted mentor. But something was niggling at him now, a sort of gut sense. “I want to see how you react on instinct. All claws with remained sheathed. I’m going to come at you from different angles and I simply want you to defend yourself, though you are welcome to be the aggressor.” His ears perked and he dropped slightly lower. He had no intention of humiliating or beating the young apprentice mercilessly. He just wanted a sense of Maskpaw’s instincts, of what he was able to do naturally. He moved forward, not like lightning but at a fair pace, slicing down towards Maskpaw’s face with his claws carefully sheathed.

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at shalefall's compliment maskpaw felt pretty proud of himself. he was glad that his training was starting really well. he stayed in his position as shalefall moved around him and then eventually in front of him. he waited quietly as his mentor began to speak again. he was going to attack maskpaw to test his abilities. in his mind, maskpaw thought he was ready for such feats. no claws, just good old fashioned defense and offense. maskpaw watched his mentor with a blank expression. no sense in giving his opponent the satisfaction of knowing he caught him off guard. of course the whole point in telling maskpaw beforehand was to make sure that maskpaw didn't freak out in the process. but when shalefall lunged at him flashes of his mother's aggression swarmed his mind and he jumped backward instinctively to get away from the swing. turning on an instinctive fight or flight switch maskpaw's eyes became wide and he let out a frightful hiss as he ran to the edge of the clearing and watched his mentor intently with large shocking blue eyes. WHAT WAS THAT?! he growled at himself furiously. maskpaw he was not going to hurt you. remember? he had his claws sheathed. he could feel his entire body shivering and his heart racing. his breathing was irregular and heavy. NO this fear is going to tear you apart! your not going to let this stop you! closing his eyes he ignored everything around him, including his mentor. he knew that it was bad practice as it would keep him vulnerable to enemies and other things, but he needed to calm himself down. he needed to overcome this fear. slowing his breathing and his heart rate, he calmed himself quickly. when he felt himself stop shivering he finally opened his eyes, satisfied by his accomplishment. "um... sorry." he began, his voice still a bit unsteady. and without even trying to explain what had just occurred he launched himself at the grey tom in hopes that they could continue the fight without continuing the conversation. He made sure that his claws were sheathed, to keep himself from getting into trouble.

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Shalefall physically recoiled. In a split second, as his paw had descended at an even non-threatening pace towards Maskpaw’s face, everything had changed. His apprentice, so cool and deliberately guarded in the previous moments, had transformed. His face had contorted, something akin to a disgusting amalgamation of fear and loathing. A hiss had echoed from his lips, moments before the apprentice had turned tail and fled to the opposite side of the clearing. Shalefall was left quite dumbfounded, his paw still raised. He lowered his paw, taking a seat. Of all the things he had expected, of everything he had prepared himself for – he had never even considered the possibility of fear – of true fear and panic response. His ears flicked slightly as his gaze settled on his flighty apprentice. The moments of silence, of Maskpaw’s chest heaving and his muscles shivering with adrenaline, seemed to last an eternity. A part of him recognized the fear. How could he not? He saw it every day, every lasting moment, in his mate’s eyes. Fear like that, it never went away – never truly healed.

He simply dipped his head in acknowledgement at Maskpaw’s words. Ignoring what had just happened would help neither of them. There was no way to simply get around battle training, it was essential to apprenticeship. And Shalefall had watched others dance around problems, dance around Bluesmoke, his entire life. Perhaps, for once, he would not dance. His ears flicked as he observed Maskpaw. “We’re changing our course of training. Today will focus on desensitization.” He didn’t move towards Maskpaw, didn’t risk approaching him again for fear of setting off the flight response once more. “I cannot properly train you with the risk of such episodes. Thus we shall repeat this exercise – as many times as is necessary – until you no longer respond.” He had truly no idea if such a thing could, or would work. But he spoke with confidence, as if sprinting in terror at the sight of a raised paw was a naturally occurring response. There was no sense in emphasizing the strangeness of it, the weakness of it. But this, unlike other things, could be cured. Shalefall was determined it would.

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“We’re changing our course of training. Today will focus on desensitization. I cannot properly train you with the risk of such episodes. Thus we shall repeat this exercise – as many times as is necessary – until you no longer respond.”

[/i]

CRASH! he felt like an entire tree fell on top of him when he heard those words and he stopped in his tracks a couple tail-lengths away from shalefall. FAIL! was the only thing that went through his mind just after that. he had been doing well. he got the crouch down pretty well. and he had been determined to continue that streak from then on. he was going to impress his clan. he was going to make sure that NO ONE could hurt him the way his mother had done a moon before and even a fortnight ago.

he was going to make himself the best warrior that ever lived just to prove to his mother that he could. wherever she was at this very moment.

then he shook his entire body to clear himself up. he was thinking out of emotion from the past couple of seconds. he needed to get himself back to normal. need to get himself clean from the fear and the hatred that had over-come his own body. he knew that the next few hours were going to be a deadly strain on his body and his mind. he had to make sure not to end up like his mother.

when he cleared himself of all emotion he looked back at his mentor with a down right determined spark in his eyes. lowering himself into the crouch that shalefall had taught to him, maskpaw gazed into the warrior's eyes. "i'm ready to begin shalefall. i shall not be beaten by fear."

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Shalefall could read the horror, the shame in Maskpaw’s eyes. But only because he had seen it so many times in himself. How often had he been faced with his own failures, piles of shortcomings? He could no longer count. But there was a pressure, ladled on the youth. There were expectations of perfection, of easy triumph. They were expected to be immune – to trauma, to heartbreak, to even the slightest of weaknesses. Yet the entire idea was unrealistic, impossible. The mere thought made Shalefall blaze with a righteous desire to right the social wrongs. But he was one, single, outcast tom. He could not change the world, even if he wanted to. He pushed this thought away, focusing instead on his determined young apprentice. The signs of his shock had ebbed from his features, pushed down below the surface. All that remained was a hardened sense of determination.

Shalefall nodded his head solemnly. He sensed that to offer the younger tom consolation, to coddle him, would do nothing to improve the situation. It would be patronizing, an insult even. He began to speak briskly, a simple business tone. “I need to understand what sets you off – physical proximity or the action itself.” His mind was whirling. In truth, he was making it all up as he went along. He had no way of having experience with such a thing. He wasn’t a mother, a father, not even a very experienced warrior. He was guessing, using Maskpaw as a sensitive conscious guinea pig of sorts. And he was bound to make a mistake or two. He understood that. All he could give was his best attempt. Perhaps it would end that he wasn’t equipped to mentor Maskpaw, to help him overcome his obstacles. Or perhaps, just perhaps, he could be the tool of Maskpaw’s triumph.

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[xxspade]

maskpaw sat up as shalefall asked his question and a thoughtful look transferred into his gaze. what was it that set him off? needing the moment to think, he was careful to watch shalefall infront of him as he thought. making sure that he wouldn't just suddenly react out of no where like his mother tended to do many times he went to visit. what had caused him to freak? he remembered how, only moments ago, shalefall had walked around him as he had entered the clearing. then he had flicked his tail at his flank to indicate his aging from being a kit to an adolescent. he remembered how he had instinctively reacted with a flinch to those simple movements which were definitely not meant to harm him. he knew that shalefall did not intend to hurt him, but his consciousness was ringing with fear in the back of his mind. he could sense it vaguely stalk him from the dark part of himself. as if it were ready to strike at any moment. was it the movement itself? or the close proximity. suddenly another thought crossed his mind and he was careful to keep it from showing on his own face. what if it was either, or? what if he guessed wrong and it effected him? what if the fear came up during a battle? how would he deal with it and where would he end up as? he would just have to think about it when the time came. right now his mentor was waiting for him to reply and he needed to answer him, before he became impatient like blackrose had done when maskpaw took forever to answer her questions. "i believe it is the action that sets me off shalefall, i see it and my mind reacts to it, remembering..." he paused. and i just let him know that i have already had physical experience. great. "remembering the disappearance of my father and scars that he came back with maybe..." he grimaced slightly as he quickly analyzed the words he had spoken. that save was somewhat of a fail genius. he stood up and began walking around the clearing so he didn't have to look at shalefall and hide his shame. he didn't want him to know. to know just how terrible of a cat maskpaw was. if his mother wasn't happy with him how could shalefall be? but he was still careful to watch shalefall and make sure he didn't try anything.

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He’d once heard one of the more senile elders speaking to an apprentice. It had been a she-cat, so old and fragile that her bones had peeked through her skin. She had shook every time she moved and tended to forget where she was – and how much time had passed. In general, as an apprentice, Shalepaw had avoided coming into contact with her. He remembered now, her name had been Toadbelly. The Medicine Cat had visited Toadbelly at least once every few days. She’d quietly give the old she-cat poppy to make her sleep or calm her down. And eventually Toadbelly would fall into a doze. But when she woke she would be frantic again. At times she would wobble out of the elder’s den searching desperately for an apprentice who had long since become a warrior. At other times she was looking for parents who were long buried. Shalepaw always avoided watching her. It only made him sad, made his pawsteps heavy. More than that, it made him fearful, terribly horridly fearful of what age would do to his own mind. Yet eventually some warrior, perhaps a bygone apprentice, would appear and usher Toadbelly gently back into the elder’s den. They would sooth her until she fell into sleep again.

Of course, Shalefall’s childhood fear of Toadbelly was obviously not even worth relating to Maskpaw’s obvious trauma – whatever it had been. But for some reason, looking at Maskpaw, Shalefall was reminded of Toadbelly – of her haunted gaze and grieved confusion. And as he had then, as a young apprentice, Shalefall felt a mixture of pity, fear, and the desire to protect Maskpaw. He nodded his head solemnly. He remembered vaguely Maskpaw’s father, though at the time he had been courting Bluesmoke and far more concerned with his future mate than anything else. His lips twisted into a pensive line. His ears flicked back as he tilted his head at Maskpaw. “Honestly, it sounds like your brain essentially formed a habit, like hunting. Except when you see something that could be interpreted as aggressive, you go into flight mode. Which means we essentially have to break the habit and re-create new ones.” He shrugged slightly, though in truth he was doing his best to put Maskpaw at ease. He had absolutely no clue how he was going to do this, or how successful it would be. It would depend on repetition, trial and error. He cleared his throat. “Ready to start?” Because there was no other choice than to simply begin.

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