.CHAPTER ONE.

Clavel stirred his strawberry milkshake with a bent straw, frowning. The café was abuzz with activity, mainly his own academy mates, and the noise was starting to grate on his – rather sensitive – ears. His tail twitched in annoyance behind him, and he took a sip, slurping noisily in poor attempt to drown out the chatter from the table next to him.

“I got to see the Doctor yesterday,” said a boy, maybe a little older than Clavel considering the tone of his voice. Of course, everyone seemed to have deeper voices than Clavel here. Them an there guttural language.

Clavel sniffed and bumped his knees under the table. His legs were getting cold.

“He told me I was top of my class. Said I was going to be one of his creates generals when I got out on the field. He let me try one of the real guns.”

Snickers sounded from the table.

“I bet he did.”

“Oh, shut-up. Not like that!”

“Look,” said a different voice, this one clearly older,” The Doctor doesn’t really get the whole say-so when it comes to where we go and what we do. We all start out on the bottom and try to come out on top.” Clavel imagined the boy had crossed his arms by this time. “It’s just a matter of working hard. Nothing we do in the academy counts for anything. It’s only what happens out there.”

Clavel’s tail swished toward the window. Behind him, the older speaker had jerked his thumb in the same direction.

It was so mundane.

Clavel took a bigger sip from his milkshake and pushed it away, slipping off the stool.

“Well, you could always sleep with the generals. That’ll get you on top all right.” More snickers ensued.

Clavel began to carry himself across the floor, happily unnoticed. Sadly he did not stay that way. His hooves clopped noisily against the tiled floor. The inane giggling behind his back stopped for a moment.

“Hey, you…cow-boy!”

Clavel snorted, ears flicking back in annoyance. He kept going. They’d already turned him off his milkshake, he wasn’t going to let them ruin…well…whatever he planned on doing when he got out of here. Maybe some exercises. Perhaps he’d polish his gun.

The boy, of course, was obviously older than him and more bull-headed than Clavel could ever be. He heard someone clattering after him and felt a hand drop to his shoulder. Clavel paused, tail lurching back and forth, and turned to face his adversary, arms crossed over his chest. His belly pushed against the boy’s thighs.

Clavel wasn’t surprised. They were all taller than him.

“You’re an interesting looking fellow,” the boy grinned,” How do you think you get up in rank around here?”

Oh, this was bull! Clavel just wanted to get away! Leaves these idiots to giggle to themselves. He rolled his eyes and let out a huff.

The boy grabbed his ear and jerked him forward. Clavel let out a squawk as he was pulled up to the very tips of his hooves. Frig! Bullies and sadists the lot of them!

“Come on, little heifer. What do you think?”

“ All right, all right!”

The boy dropped him, and Clavel rocked, arms flailing in attempt to catch his balance. He swayed to the ground, landing hard. Bugger it all! He shot the boy a leer and bared his teeth. The stranger gave a laugh and jerked him up by his ear again, setting him right although leaving the appendage smarting awfully.

“Come on, now. What do you think?”

“The easiest way, of course,” Clavel huffed, eyeing the exit a moment.

The boy’s mates chortled as if he’d said something amusing.

“Which is?”

“Eliminating the competition, of course.” And with that, Clavel rocked back and slammed a hoof square between the boy’s legs. He didn’t bother waiting for the effect. He turned and raced toward the door as fast as he legs would carry him, not stopping for any officer’s shouts.